


Dynasty

by dyiansobrien



Series: Harper Verum Series [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Lydia Martin, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, bisexual oc, teen wolf rewrite, teen wolf season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 103,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29542761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyiansobrien/pseuds/dyiansobrien
Summary: [ BOOK 4 of 5 ]Harper Verum and Stiles Stilinski have been through everything together; from finding out their best friend was a werewolf, to a kanima, an alpha pack, a Nogitsune, the Deadpool, Dread Doctors, Valack... It seemed that nothing could ever tear them apart.That was until something called the Wild Hunt took over Beacon Hills, leaving Harper and her friends with one question: Who the hell is Stiles?Add in an Anuk-Ite- the creature who wiped out Emapths- and a town full of supernatural hunters and things are bound to get messy for Harper and the rest of the McCall pack.
Relationships: Lydia Martin/Original Female Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Harper Verum Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165103
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

"What in the hell were you three thinking?"

Wincing, Harper Verum, Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall all turned simultaneously to come face to face with the Sheriff of Beacon Hills- also known as Stiles' dad. He wore a displeased expression as he glanced between the trio, waiting for an answer from one of them.

Red and blue lights flashed all over the place, coming from both police cars and ambulances. The paramedic that had been fitting a splint over Stiles' sprained wrist left the teenagers alone, allowing them to explain themselves.

"We were just trying to help?" Scott chuckled nervously.

"Why don't you try and help me understand what the hell happened here?" Sheriff Stilinski hissed, gesturing to the scene going on around him.

Stiles pursed his lips. "Right, well, we were trying to gently persuade him to pull over..."

Scott and Harper, who stood either side of Stiles, peered around at each other, raising their eyebrows. Even Stiles didn't sound confident in his answer- and that was because it was a total lie.

Their late night crime watching had turned into Scott morphing into his werewolf form and literally jumping onto the windshield of a car while the man screamed 'demon' at him the entire time.

Harper exhaled quietly, "he was getting away?"

Noah nodded in confirmation. "He got away."

"Right, because obviously, he's some sort of criminal mastermind, dad," Stiles claimed, growing frustrated by his father's all-too-calm expression.

Sheriff Stilinski hummed and moved to the back of the truck that the man had previously been driving- right before he swerved off the road in an attempt to get Scott away.

"You want to guess what the stolen merchandise is?" Noah pulled open the back doors of the van, allowing the teenagers to peek inside.

Harper pursed her lips in disappointment, seeing nothing but tanks filled with gas. Which gas, she had no idea, but she guessed it definitely wasn't important enough to get the man to crash to a stop.

The hazel-eyed boy next to her winced. "Critical life-saving medical equipment?" He tried.

"No."

"Poison gas?"

"Nope."

"Filled with drugs?"

Noah leaned forward, not amused. "Helium."

"Helium?" Stiles stammered back, now feeling extremely discouraged.

Harper sighed, patting his back. "Helium."

Not too long after, the three best friends left from the scene feeling more than embarrassed for the chaos that they had caused over helium.

They climbed into the jeep, Harper in the back as always, while Scott drove due to Stiles' injured wrist.

"This could be a good thing," Scott tried to comfort his best friend.

"Oh, it definitely is a good thing," Harper scoffed.

Stiles turned in his seat to shoot her a pointed look. "That we saved helium?"

Scott chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "No, I mean that... They don't need us anymore."

"Oh, they need us," Stiles disagreed with a scoff, "they just don't know it."

"Sti, we're all going off to college soon. Don't you wanna be finished with all of the supernatural drama and focus on the rest of your life?" Harper attempted to comfort him when she saw the way his face had fallen at Scott's words. "You can't do that when you're stressing about what's going on back here."

"Beacon Hills will burn to the ground without us," her boyfriend shook his head dramatically.

"Stiles," Scott mumbled, "they don't need us."

The three sat in silence for the next few seconds. Harper was about to suggest turning the radio on- anything to fill the saddened silence- when Stiles' phone buzzed. He glanced down at the device on his lap, his eyes widening as he lifted up the screen saying that his dad was calling.

"They need us!"

...

At the Sheriff's Station, Stiles' father explained everything. He'd received a call from Liam and Hayden, who apparently had been on a date when their car had broken down. They tried flagging down another car, but noticed that inside nobody was driving it- just some kid sat in the back seats absolutely terrified. Apparently, he couldn't remember what had happened to his parents.

Harper, Scott, and Stiles watched from the doorway as Sheriff Stilinski approached the young boy. He had to be about twelve-years-old, a panicked expression on his face as he sat in a chair and stared at the floor while biting his nails. Noah moved to crouch down in front of him, making him look up.

"Alex, you know we're having trouble locating your parents," he spoke softly, "and since you can't remember anything, we have a method- an unusual method- that might help you to remember. But I need you to be okay with it. I also need you to know that it's probably going to hurt."

"I don't care," the young boy- Alex- exclaimed, "I just want to find my mum and dad."

Noah glanced back at the three teenagers, ushering them inside. Scott kneeled down by the boy while Stiles and Harper stood off to the side, watching with folded arms. The Sheriff shut the blinds, making sure nobody saw what was about to happen.

"You ready?" Scott waited for Alex to nod before he flicked his claws out and pressed them into the back of his neck.

They watched as the twelve-year-old jolted, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his memories transferred over to Scott. It only took a couple of minutes. Scott gasped as he pulled away, stumbling backwards until Stiles caught him.

"Scott, what did you see?" Harper furrowed her brows.

"I saw a guy on a horse," the alpha panted.

"Horse?" Stiles repeated in disbelief.

"He had a gun."

"Okay," Noah nodded, "A guy with a gun. That sounds like my department, not yours."

"Well, what about his parents?" Harper folded her arms across her chest, glancing over at Alex who still hadn't woken up. "Did the guy just shoot them? Where are their bodies?"

Scott frowned, "I don't know. That's all I remember, but..." He inhaled sharply, "I got this feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Sheriff Stilinski questioned.

Before Scott could answer, Alex did. "They're coming back. They're coming for me."

...

"I'm not getting anything!" Lydia Martin exclaimed, rolling her eyes from where she sat in the front seat of Alex's parents' car, touching the steering wheel to try and get her banshee senses going.

Stiles pestered her from the backseat while Scott felt the bonnet absentmindedly. Harper wasn't so sure why Stiles wanted this occurrence to be supernatural so badly. After all, the brunette would kill to live in peace before she went off to college- and she had already been accepted into a few really good ones. Now she just needed to get through the senior year while maintaining good grades, and unfortunately, the supernatural and good grades do not go together.

A coyote howl filled the night air, making Harper glance up with raised brows. She watched as the animal jumped over all of the rubble building up at the back of the junkyard, its eyes flashing electric blue. It barked as it came over, pausing in front of them before the animal slowly became to morph- becoming a stark naked Malia Tate.

Malia didn't care that she was naked as she stood up, but Lydia left the car and handed her some clothes anyway which she began to put on gratefully.

Footsteps came racing from the other end of the junkyard, revealing Isaac Lahey. He was panting slightly as he came to a halt in front of them.

"Sorry, I'm late, I was-" Isaac's eyes landed on Malia who now only had a shirt on and he quickly looked away. "My phone died, I only just got your message."

Lydia shook her head, "it's fine. I don't think Alex's parents are dead."

"They're dead," Malia insisted, "probably torn apart. The only thing I don't get is why there's no blood."

"They're not dead," Lydia retorted, "if they were dead, I'd sense it."

Isaac sniffed the air, "yeah, well if they were alive we would smell it."

"I'm not getting anything either," Scott added from where he had moved over to the car, away from the pack.

Stiles frowned. "Scott, what are you talking about? You were in his head for an exact four minutes. I timed it."

"Well, it's not an exact science," the alpha shrugged, "and he's a kid, maybe he's too freaked out to remember."

Isaac's eyes shifted over to Harper who hadn't spoken the entire time. Her dark eyes were trained on the car, her lips slightly screwed up as she folded her arms across her chest.

"What's up with you?" Isaac asked, snapping her out of her dazed expression.

Harper looked back to see all of her friends staring at her with expectant looks, Stiles in particular. It looked like he wanted her to back him up, but she wasn't sure her information would.

"Well, it's just..." The Empath sighed, "Alex said he was in the car with his parents, right?"

"Right," Scott nodded in confirmation, "and I saw them in his head."

"Yeah, well, I'm not picking up three sets of emotions," Harper admitted, looking back at the car, her fingertips moving out to touch the hood. "I can only feel one set. Alex's. And he was terrified."

"What does that mean?" Malia folded her arms against her chest. "You think his parents weren't in the car? Cause I can smell that they were there."

Harper held her hands up in defence. "I don't know what it means. I'm just saying, it's like they... it's like-"

Knowing that she was struggling to get the right words out, Stiles placed his large hand on the small of her back, rubbing a soothing circle that told her she didn't need to explain herself. Isaac just exhaled loudly from where he stood opposite them.

"I still don't know why it matters if they're dead or alive," he changed the subject.

"If it's just a robbery, we can't help them," Stiles nodded, "but and if it's something supernatural, my dad can't help them."

"It sounds like you want it to be supernatural," Lydia accused.

Stiles shrugged, "it's been like three months since anything's happened."

"Yeah, and once a week you drag me out of bed like I'm some sort of supernatural metal detector!" The banshee hissed.

"You can't seriously tell me that you think this is just some series of impossible coincidences?" Stiles exclaimed.

"What I'm saying is, is that maybe it wouldn't be so bad," Lydia huffed before turning around and walking away.

He watched as Malia followed, the two of them climbing into the strawberry blonde's car. Harper sighed when she looked up and saw the pissed off expression on Stiles' face. He said nothing but stormed over to the car, climbing in and slamming the door. Scott and Isaac exchanged worried glances.

"Go help him," Scott urged her, "he's literally going crazy staring at a broken windshield."

Harper rolled her eyes at him before she walked over to the window, leaning her arms against it so that their faces were level. Stiles' gaze flickered over to her and he exhaled out his nose.

"Do you believe me?" He muttered, "do you think that this has something to do with the supernatural?"

About three times a week Stiles would run to her claiming that he had found something supernatural this time, asking her to help him check it out or read off a possible new suspect's emotions... And every time he had ended up being wrong. But maybe it was the sorrowful look in his eye that made her nod.

"If I say yes, will you let me get go home so I can get a good nights sleep before picture day tomorrow? I have about two hundred kids to take pictures of." Harper asked teasingly.

Stiles rolled his eyes but still smiled a little, his gaze turning back to the broken windshield. Harper was about to make some sarcastic comment about his obsession with a windshield broken by a bullet when she realised that bullets don't create this kind of damage. They don't wipe out entire windshields.

"Stiles..." She straightened, making him look at her with raised brows. "Bullets don't do this. They do that." She pointed across at a car that had cracked glass, a bullet lodged half inside of it. 

Stiles sat up straight, eyes wide. Scott and Isaac had even moved closer, both alarmed at what she had realised. The Stilinski boy reached in, grabbing a shard of glass and holding it up to his gaze.

"Magic bullet," he muttered to himself.

...

Yearbook photos.

So many people dreaded them, but Harper was somewhat excited. Since she was known by teachers for being extremely talented in the art department, she had been chosen to do some photography for the yearbook. She was more than happy to- after all, it would look good in any more applications she had to fill out.

"Malia, your turn," Harper smiled at her friend who was next in line.

The girl that had gone before muttered a quick 'thanks' before Malia swiftly approached the barstool set up behind the blue screen. She sat down in it and straightened her back, beaming at the camera in a way that Harper could only describe as amusing.

"Biggest smile yet, Mal," she chuckled, taking the picture just as Stiles rushed into the frame. "Stiles!" She hissed, waving her hands at him.

"My bad," he exclaimed, "guys, listen-"

"No," Harper groaned, "two seconds, Stiles. Two seconds is all I'm asking for."

"Right, right," he backed away and Malia posed again, showing off her teeth even wider this time.

Harper snapped the picture- just as Stiles entered yet again. She practically growled under her breath, sending daggers at her boyfriend who didn't even appear the slightest bit apologetic. A line of people was also glaring at him from behind Harper. Everybody just wanted to get their pictures done and leave, not wait for the delay.

"That was a good one!" Malia whined, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "you ruined it!"

Harper sighed, glancing back at a girl named Sydney who was also on the yearbook team. Right now she was just crossing off people's names as she went through them.

"Sydney, can you take a few while I take a quick break?" Harper asked politely, smiling when Sydney agreed more than happily.

"Why would I want to ruin your yearbook photo?" Stiles frowned at Malia who had sat down on a bench next to Scott, Isaac and Lydia.

Harper folded her arms across her chest. "Maybe because you haven't signed up for your own yearbook photo yet?" She suggested, recalling how she hadn't seen her boyfriend's name on the list.

"Yes, I did," he pulled out the application form in his back pocket, showing it to the two girls.

"It's blank!" The werecoyote exclaimed.

"Those were due in yesterday, Stiles," Harper sighed, watching as his face fell, "don't worry, I can squeeze you in. You too, Malia, I'll let you re-do yours."

Malia grinned at her friend while Stiles pouted, "I must have forgotten-"

"Or, maybe you're sublimating the stress of graduating by avoiding key milestones," Scott suggested, glancing up from the textbook he had rested on the table to find his friends looking at him with confused expressions. "Psych paper."

Harper glanced back over at the line of people, finding that it had gone down to about one or two by now. Stiles' voice pulled her out of her distraction.

"Hey, the deputy searched the car," the hazel-eyed boy began, "no slugs, no exit hole. And the address Alex gave my dad- it's an abandoned house. Come on! Missing parents, suspicious guy on horseback, who's coming with?"

"I've gotta retake my photos," Malia shook her head.

Lydia turned her nose up. "Not interested."

"Yeah, as thrilling as that sounds, I don't care," Isaac said, sending him a clearly fake smile.

"I cannot miss any more classes," Scott sighed, "I missed thirty-eight last semester. And Lydia's mum is the only reason I'm still in school. I can go after school."

Stiles pursed his lips, turning to look at his girlfriend who, not to his surprise, had disappeared again. He released a noise of confusion before turning around, finding her back with Sydney and the camera, now taking the last person's photo.

She took the camera off of the tripod and wrapped it around her neck. When she returned she was holding it up to them with a beam on her face.

"Candid time," she exclaimed, making Stiles groan.

"Harper, no. You need to come with me to the house," he pleaded.

"No," she huffed, pushing him over to the bench where Scott grabbed him and forced him down. "Sit and stay."

"Fine," he pulled out the shard of glass from last night, "if you can explain to me why this is blue, I'll let it go."

Scott took it from his hands, looking at it in confusion. Harper snapped her fingers in front of the camera, making them all look at her. Isaac and Malia were sat on the table itself, but at opposite ends so Isaac was by Scott, Lydia tucked by Malia's legs, Stiles in the middle of her and Scott.

"Say 'cheese'," she grinned.

Her friends halfheartedly called the phrase back but put on beaming smiles- even Stiles made a goofy one. Harper flicked back to the photo that she had just taken, smiling down at it.

"Cute," she mumbled.

"Harper, you need to get in it," Lydia huffed before looking over at the other girl on the yearbook, "hey, Sydney. Come take a picture of us."

Sydney, once again, took the camera from Harper who moved to sit down in between Stiles and Scott. She leaned into her boyfriend's side a little, her hand resting on his leg as they grinned at the camera. As soon as the flash went off, Harper was back up and looking at the photo.

As soon as the flash went off, Harper was back up and looking at the photo   
"Thanks, Sydney," she called as the girl walked away. Harper looked back over to where the yearbook photos were taking place and sighed stressfully when she saw a line. "Stiles, Malia. Quick before more people start to join."

Malia did her retake with no more mishaps before Stiles took her place on the stool, slipping his backpack off so that it was down by his feet. He smiled at the camera.

"Very handsome," Harper called to him, making him blush a little as she snapped the photograph.

He shook his head in amusement at her as he went around to the laptop screen to see his picture, his tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he analysed his smiling face. Harper raised her brows in amusement as she watched his eyes widen.

"Hey, my cheeks are pink! We're retaking it-" He seemed embarrassed, tugging on Harper's wrist to get her back behind the camera.

Harper laughed, "no way. You look cute, so you're dealing with it."

"Let's compromise. I'll let you keep that photo in the yearbook if you come with Scott and me after school to the abandoned house," he pleaded.

"Deal," she smirked before quickly raising the camera right in his face, taking the picture. 

The bright light made him laugh, his hand moving to cover the lens. He lowered it so it was in between them and moved in, locking his lips with hers. His hand stayed on her cheeks while she held the camera towards the floor, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Ahem," someone coughed from behind her, making both of them break apart to face about twenty students who had since lined up to get their yearbook photos taken.

Harper blushed, "now, scram. I'll catch you after school."

Stiles grinned cheekily and pressed a final chaste kiss to her lips before wandering off.

If Harper had known the consequences of sneaking into the desolate house, then she would have never stepped foot inside. None of them would have.

Especially Stiles Stilinski.


	2. Chapter 2

Harper could feel the frustration pouring off of her two best friends and it was starting to irritate her like nothing else.

From where Scott and Stiles sat in their seats in front of her, their eyes remained not on the TV at the front of the room but on the clock above it. Stiles drummed his slender fingers across the wooden desk while Scott restlessly tapped his foot against the floor, waiting for the day to end.

She understood why they were so anxious to go to Alex's supposedly abandoned house, however, they were being utterly distracting to the Empath. Scott had brought the blue glass to Mrs Finch, their AP Biology teacher, where she had told him that there was no way a gun would have changed the colour. It sparked Harper's interest too, but not enough for her to fail her senior year like they were going to at this rate.

The two teenage boys had already been caught by Mrs Martin trying to sneak out of school earlier in the day.

Harper's mind managed to wander elsewhere. She pulled her camera out of her bag, quietly scrolling through it underneath the table. The English girl studied all of the candids that she had been taking of students for the past week. The yearbook ones were coming out fine, but she needed way more natural photos and it was starting to stress her out.

Abruptly, the school bell began to ring, making everybody jump up- two boys particularly quicker than the rest. Stiles flung his backpack over his shoulder before whirling around to face the girl in the seat behind him. Harper raised her eyebrows at him, carefully placing the camera into her bag as securely as she could.

"Come on, we don't have all day," he huffed, grabbing her wrist and starting to pull her out of the classroom, Scott right behind them.

Harper stuck her feet to the floor once they reached halfway down the hallway, making them both stop and shoot her annoyed expressions. The brunette ignored their burning gazes, reminding herself not to give in to the peer pressure that was due to come any moment now.

She cleared her throat confidently. "I have to take more pictures of after-school clubs and things for the yearbook. I didn't realise I'd be so busy today. I'm sorry."

"Can't someone else do it?" Scott questioned, making Stiles nod eagerly in agreement.

They scanned the hallways as if searching for a random student to shove the camera on. Harper rolled her eyes.

"Just go without me," she insisted, "you don't really need me."

Stiles' eyes softened like he had taken her words to heart. The way her boyfriend had reacted made it look like she had told him that they didn't need him- not the other way round. Harper knew that it had something to do with how he was having to accept that the group weren't going to be with each other soon and that Beacon Hills didn't need them anymore.

"Of course we need you," Stiles argued, "you're Harper. Scott and I need you."

Harper sighed, jutting her bottom lip out as she stared between her two best friends. Stiles did have a point. This could be their last adventure together before they left high school and she was curious about the whole Alex situation.

Besides, with the way Scott and Stiles were staring at her, it was hard not to give in. The two boys knew that they had won as soon as her shoulders sagged, her defences crashing down.

"I'm not getting rid of you two, am I?" Harper smiled softly, raising an eyebrow when Stiles' hazel eyes lit up. "What?"

"You said that when Scott and I came to your house to ask you to come dead body hunting the night he got bitten," Stiles reminded her.

"How do you remember that?" Scott scoffed.

"You two remembered the whole sitting on the bench conversation when we went looking for Malia's family car back when she was a coyote," Stiles rolled his eyes playfully. "Plus you teased me for liking Harper straight after and I denied it, but I was secretly scared cause I thought she'd hear from upstairs."

Harper and Scott both chuckled, a small blush tinging on Harper's cheeks at the thought of Stiles liking her back then. As their laughs faded to smiles, Harper sighed.

"I'm gonna have to get Sydney to take pictures of all of the after school clubs, and she's not gonna be pleased, guys," Harper raised her dark brows at the pair. "So you two owe me. Like, a lot."

"I'll buy you Sour Patch Kids on the way home," Stiles promised, knowing how obsessed his girlfriend had become over the sour sweets over the past couple of weeks.

A beam took over Harper's face, "you better."

...

The jeep pulled up outside a large brick house that was tucked away from the rest of humanity. A rusted swing set blew in the wind next to it, the clouds above swirling into grey mist and creating a sinister atmosphere. Harper swallowed as they all climbed out of the car, moving to face the supposedly abandoned house.

"Well, that's not creepy at all," Stiles muttered sarcastically, handing Scott the only other torch he had.

Harper frowned, "why does he get the torch? He's got freaking glow in the dark eyes."

"You don't need a flashlight because you'll be sticking with me," her boyfriend insisted, emphasising on the American term he used. He often did that to annoy or embarrass her.

For example, last week, when they had stopped at the gas station, Harper had asked for some 'sweeties', to which Stiles replied with 'you mean candy?', resulting in an entire debate in which when Stiles dropped Harper home, he asked Isaac and Scott which one they thought it was, and so, of course, Stiles won- again.

Or how Harper can't say 'telly' or 'water' without Stiles repeating it with a snicker.

Harper took no notice, instead following behind Scott as he pushed open the unlocked door to the house. It creaked as the trio walked through it, floorboards groaning under every step that they made. The brunette looked around, fully alert.

The number of cobwebs covering the walls and lack of furniture was making her skin crawl. It looked as if nobody had stepped foot inside the house in years, and yet Alex still claimed that he lived here. No more playful bickering was shared between the couple who had been stunned to silence.

Scott turned around, accidentally shining the light right in her face. She moved out of the way, sending him a small glare that he didn't acknowledge.

"You wanna split up?" He suggested quietly.

Harper scoffed incredulously while Stiles shook his head, "um, absolutely not," he disagreed.

"Can we just hurry up?" Harper pleaded with them, sending them both a look.

It didn't take any convincing after that since she could tell the boys were a little scared too. The Empath wasn't worried that it was haunted or anything, but she was concerned about homeless people that lived in abandoned houses and became territorial when strangers entered. That was the last thing she wanted right now.

Her hand gripped the wooden railing as they began to make their way up the stairs, each one crying out underneath their weights. Harper gulped as they neared the top, her breath hitching in her throat when she felt something scutter across her fingers. Without thinking, she released a scream, jumping back and almost falling down the stairs.

Both boys yelled out in panic, whirling so that their flashlights were on Harper who was jumping up and down, holding her hand. The three's screaming died down, Scott and Stiles gaping at Harper with wide eyes.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles yelled, his hand over his heart.

"A spider was on me!" She held her hand like it had been shot or something.

Stiles' left eye twitched, "really, Harper? A spider?"

She glared back, "as if you didn't scream when you felt my foot on your leg in bed the other week because you thought it was a bug!"

Scott rolled his eyes at his two best friends, "I, for one, am glad it was just a spider and not some supernatural demon or something."

"I wish it was a supernatural demon," Harper muttered bitterly under her breath, rolling her eyes right back at him as she continued to follow the teenage boys up the stairs. "I feel violated."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Stiles called back, "just don't touch anything, then nothing will touch you."

Harper said nothing but silently obeyed, walking closer to him and keeping her hands off of the bannister. She looked cautiously around at all of the webs, her heart stopping every time she thought she saw something move. God, she hated spiders with a passion.

"Maybe Alex got the address wrong," Scott suggested as they walked past an empty room that was cleaner that downstairs.

"Or he lied," Stiles added, shrugging his shoulders.

They continued down the hall, peering into each room. Harper walked past the boys, her brows furrowed as she stared at the only door that was closed- and it was the one at the very end of the hall. She felt them right behind her as her hand touched the doorknob. She hesitated for a moment before she twisted it, pushing the door open.

All three teenagers were stunned to see what was inside. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had clearly belonged to Alex- or some other young boy. Posters and other belongings were plastered everywhere, a single bed made neatly in the centre of the bedroom.

"Or maybe he didn't lie," Harper swallowed, thankful for the light that was pouring through his open window.

Scott frowned, switching the torch off. "Why didn't the cops say anything about this?"

"They don't know it's here," Stiles said, turning from where he had been looking around at the stuff. "They can't come here without a warrant, and there's no owner of a record to serve a warrant to. So, unless there's some kind of threat or imminent danger, they wouldn't come in."

There was a short silence before Harper noticed the way Scott flinched, his dark eyes widening.

"Scott?" She whispered.

"I think I heard something," he murmured quietly, turning back into the hallway.

Harper and Stiles began to follow him, the brunette realising that Stiles hadn't come down the stairs with them once she had reached the bottom. She clung to Scott's arm as he shined the torch around.

"Stiles didn't come with us," the Empath worried.

"He's probably still in Alex's room," Scott mumbled back as they moved into the dining room.

A large oak table took up the majority of the room, but all that was on it was a plate, a knife and a fork. Everything was covered in dust. Scott moved the light away from it before quickly flicking it back, both their hearts stopping when they saw that the plate was gone, leaving only a clean print behind.

"What the hell?" The alpha muttered before his ears strained on something else.

Harper heard it this time.

Footsteps.

Scott rushed around the corner, the teenage girl right behind him as they almost collided with bodies. Everyone gasped, relief flooding Harper's system when she realised that it was just Liam and Mason.

"What- what are you two doing here?" Liam asked nervously, placing his hands on his hips as he glanced between the pair.

"This is Alex's house," Scott breathed, trying to stop his pounding heart, "what are you doing here?"

"This is where the compass lead us."

"What compass?"

Mason held out his hand, producing an old-fashioned, golden compass that was flickering in all sorts of directions.

"Why's it doing that?" Harper asked.

"We have no idea," Mason replied while Liam pulled out his phone, showing them the compass app that was doing the same thing.

"They're all doing it," the beta added worriedly.

Suddenly, the glass of the original one smashed and a bang came from upstairs. Harper's eyes widened, her boyfriend's name slipping past her lips as she ran up the stairs, not caring that she was going half-blind without the torch. When she made it up, Stiles was climbing off of the floor, a dazed look on his face.

"What happened?" Harper rushed to him, holding underneath his arm.

"He was here," his gaze flickered between her, Scott and the two sophomores frantically, "he shot at me. It was one of the guys you saw in Alex's memory."

"Someone shot at you?" Harper panicked, glancing over his body for any injuries- which there weren't any.

"The guy who took his parents?" Mason frowned.

"No, no, no," Stiles shook his head determinedly, "they weren't just taken. They were- they were made to disappear. That's why there's no furniture, that's why they aren't in any of the photos," he looked up at his girlfriend, "Harper, that's why you couldn't feel any emotion from them last night. They were erased."

The Empath blinked, slightly overwhelmed by the theory Stiles had just laid on all of them. He whirled around, opening the bedroom door and rushing inside.

Everything was gone.

...

Harper huffed, leaning her chin against her palm as she scrolled through yearbook pictures on one of the school library computers. The screen lit up her face in the dark, though her eyes strained painfully while she deleted photos not worth the final cut.

Thanks to Scott and Stiles, Harper had been pulled back by the teacher running the yearbook to finish off her tasks— and she wasn't pleased. It was ten at night and all she wanted to do was go home and take a long, hot shower.

Harper's brows furrowed together when she came across a yearbook photo with nobody sat in the stool, taken right after Malia's. She deleted the image and hummed when she realised Stiles' wasn't in the batch.

"What..." she muttered to herself.

Harper's phone began to buzz, making her jump. Her dainty hand grabbed the device from her bag and she lifted it, eyes widening upon seeing her front page full of notifications from a certain Stilinski boy.

STILES: where are you??

STILES: liam, hayden and mason found a body at the school

STILES: HARPER

(1) missed call from Stiles

Worry pricked in the English girl's mind, suddenly feeling nervous being all alone in the school when a murder had apparently just taken place. Harper saved her work, knowing fully well she would be told off in the morning since she hadn't sent them over to the teacher.

Harper left the library, a frown tugging her lips down as she tried to find Stiles' contact in her phone to reply. It wasn't there though. She was about to call Scott instead, only to see two familiar figures walking across the school to the car park.

"Lydia, Malia!" Harper yelled, waving her hand at them as she jogged over. "Have you guys seen Stiles?"

Malia's brows furrowed, "What?"

"He should be here," Harper explained, "his dad's probably here so..."

"Who's his dad?" Lydia added.

Harper was about to laugh at them for messing around when her heart stopped. She watched as they shook their heads, heading back to Isaac's car where he was waiting.

They were serious.

They had no clue who Stiles Stilinski was.

With her heart in her throat, Harper whirled around, running to get back into the school. A body suddenly collided with hers, causing her to stumble straight to the concrete ground. She got up, ready to apologise to the boy out that she had bumped into when she realised he looked eerily familiar.

"Harper," the hazel-eyed boy gasped, sliding his phone straight into his pocket and reaching down, helping her up by the arms. "I was trying to call you. Oh, god. Please. Please tell me you remember me."

For a second, she'd lost his name— but not the memories. His hands on her arms were warm and they felt like home. She watched as his face fell, but she shook her head as it came back to her less than a second later.

"Stiles," The brunette gasped, "Stiles, what's going on? Why does nobody else remember you?"

Stiles' shoulders sagged in relief when he realised that Harper still remembered him. After his own father and Scott forgetting, he guessed Harper would be no different. Fate always liked to screw him over like that. His heart broke at the thought of her not remembering him, but he'd kept trying to call her anyways- she was all he had left.

"Oh, thank god," he threw his arms around her tiny frame, yanking her into a hug  
"Oh, thank god," he threw his arms around her tiny frame, yanking her into a hug.

Harper hugged back immediately, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs as she inhaled the scent of his cologne. She pulled away from him after a few seconds, her eyes still flashing panic.

"What's happening?"

"I'm next," he didn't release her arms, his hazel eyes frantically darting around everywhere. "I'm getting taken by the wild hunt, just like Alex."

Harper swallowed because she didn't remember Alex. She assumed that he had been taken by the Wild Hunt too. Was he one of their friends? The brunette watched as Stiles froze, his eyes trained on something nearby.

"Do you see that?" He panicked.

The Empath glanced over, seeing nothing but an empty car park. She turned back to him, shaking her head swiftly with pursed lips. His face fell even further- if that was possible.

"Okay, okay," Stiles' hands trembled as they moved from her arms to her face, cupping her cheeks. "They're coming for me right now, okay? I love you so much, Harper Verum. So— so you need to get out of here. You need to get away from me, baby."

Harper shook her head determinedly, "Stiles Stilinski, I'm not leaving you!"

Seeing that she was adamant, he grabbed her by the hand and started to run. She followed, well aware that he could see things right now that she couldn't.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Stiles skidded to a stop, turning back to run the other way. "This way, this way."

They were sprinting all over the place, his tight grip on her hand not loosening for a second. He pulled her back and forth, left and right.

"Where are they?" She cried.

"They're everywhere," he spotted the jeep at the back of the car park, pulling her towards it. "Just— whatever you do, Harper, don't look at them. Don't look at them. They'll take you too, Harper, just don't!"

The Empath nodded quickly, her voice caught in her throat as they released each other to climb in their separate sides of the vehicle. They slammed the doors shut, Stiles' hands working at a ridiculous pace to try and get the keys in the ignition— but they were shaking too much.

He glanced up. His eyes must have landed on one of them because he froze, his movements coming to a stop. Harper's heart was pounding and she grabbed his wrist, making him look at her.

"Stiles!" She pleaded, "what are you doing? You need to drive!"

"There's no time," her boyfriend gulped, realisation and dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

He knew he was going to be taken. At this point, as they all surrounded the jeep, it was inevitable. He knew how he wanted to spend his last moments, or at least he knew who he wanted to spend them with.

Tears were streaming down Harper's face. "No—"

"No," Stiles cut her off, his own eyes pooling as he turned in his seat to face her, grabbing her hand. "Harper, you gotta listen to me. I'm going to be taken, and you're going to forget about me—"

"I could never. No, no," Harper shook her head, "I can't. I won't forget about you, Sti. I could never. I- I love you too much."

She hated to admit that she knew she was lying. Every second that passed, a memory of him would slip from her mind, but she remained focused, still remembering most of it and her indescribable feelings for him.

"You will," his thumbs reached up, the pads gently wiping away her tears. "Harper, you're going to forget me. But you gotta find a way to remember me, okay? Remember how we first met? Or— or our first kiss? A-a-and remember the way our hands fit together, like this."

He held his large hand up against her small one, still as amazed by the size difference as the first time they did it. His fingers moved to intertwine with his, her heart snapping in half at the sensation that felt like it had happened thousands of times before.

It probably had... but she was starting to forget.

As her gaze flickered back from their hands to his whiskey eyes, her heart stopped. For a second his face looked like a stranger's to her, like she had never seen this beautiful man in her life before.

However, as he began to talk again, unknowing of her increasing forgetfulness, everything quickly came flooding back in the form of a shiver. Harper found herself wondering how she could even forget for a second that the man in front of her was Mieczysław Stilinski- the love of her entire life.

"Okay? Remember the day we told each other we loved each other? At the exact same time, a-and then you called me your dork and that's all I've ever wanted to be since," Stiles' tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, tears falling from his own eyes now. "Remember how I've been so in love with you since we were literally ten."

Harper's heart was pounding even harder now. Her bottom lip trembled, her hands squeezing his even tighter.

"Stiles-"

Stiles cut her cracked voice off with a hushed murmur, leaning forwards and placing his lips against hers. Despite the fact that they had done this thousands of times before, it still felt like the first time. His lips tingled, his heart raced, his mind went fuzzy.

Stiles knew this would be the last.

"I need you to listen," he repeated quietly as he pulled away, his lips brushing against hers from their closeness, "what I'm about to say- I need you to try and remember it too, okay?"

Harper nodded quickly, "of course."

"I need you to remember that I love you," he gripped her hands that were placed over her lap, watching as she continued to nod through her tears, "I need you to remember that you're my best friend, my soulmate, the love of my fucking life, okay?"

"I love you too," Harper choked, knowing wholeheartedly it was true.

Stiles managed a shaky smile as he continued, "good. Because I need you to remember what would have been— what we could have had— if- if this wasn't happening right now."

The entire experience had made Stiles think about all of the things he was going to miss out on now. Everything that he had planned on doing with Harper that was no longer going to happen.

His heart tore in half at the thought. He almost started crying harder.

Intrigued, Harper nodded for the millionth time that night, urging him to hurry before he was taken. She was conscious of her racing heart and the fact that she didn't know how close the Ghost Riders were, but she tried to focus her entire attention on the teenage boy in front of her. The teenage boy that she loved with everything she had.

"I know we're young," Stiles gulped, "but since I'm never gonna get to ask you this ever again, I need to ask you now. I need to know this would have happened."

The Empath felt like she knew what was coming, her heart pounding quicker. She squeezed his hands in response.

"Say you'll marry me one day," Stiles breathed, tears starting to finally fall, "we could- we can get engaged for years and then finally get married when we've finished with college and settled into some big home together back in Beacon Hills, and then we can have two kids."

Harper was practically sobbing now, a smile etched on her face as she continued to nod to what he was saying.

"- and you'd get to name the first one, of course, and I'd name the second. And- and we'd be so happy. So fucking happy, baby. Promise me. Promise me you'll marry me someday," Stiles pleaded, conscious of the Ghost Riders now surrounding the jeep.

Harper opened her mouth, ready to respond with the words he craved when the door behind him was ripped open, a force invisible to the girl grabbing Stiles by the shoulders and tugging him back. She screamed, practically tearing her throat raw as she reached forward, trying to grab him.

But it was too late. Stiles was gone. Her hand remained in the cold air reaching out for him, but he wasn't coming back.

Stiles was never coming back.


	3. Chapter 3

Something was off.

Harper knew that there was something wrong as soon as she woke up. It felt like she was forgetting something important, but she knew she had wrapped up on all of the yearbook stuff last night and her homework was tucked away at the bottom of her bag, ready to be handed in. Most likely, she was going to get to maths and realise she had forgotten her calculator or something.

Pushing open the doors to the school, Harper glanced around, her eyes looking for someone in particular. They landed on Liam, Hayden and Mason who were huddled around the werewolf's locker. They sent her waves and smiles, which she returned weakly.

A large hand clamped down on her shoulder, making her jump. She glanced up, finding Scott already beaming down at the shorter girl. Malia and Isaac appeared by her side a few moments later, though they hadn't arrived together, each coming from different sides of the hallway.

Before Harper could stress her concern to her friends, a pair of soft hands gently grabbed her arms, turning her to the side.

Plump lips attached themselves with hers, the taste of cherries infiltrating Harper's senses. The familiar scent of Lydia Martin filled her nostrils, causing a real smile to finally twitch on the corners of her lips.

"Hey, Lyds," Harper breathed, staring into her girlfriend's green eyes.

Lydia smirked, "morning, babe. What's up with the long face?"

The brunette's frown deepened. "I feel like I should have done something... but I can't remember what."

"Did you finish sending the yearbook photos to Mr Renton last night?"

"Hm?" The Empath mumbled, her face falling when she realised that she hadn't. She smacked her own forehead gently. "Ugh. I knew that I had forgotten to do something."

"Having an off day?" Her best friend, Scott, suggested, making her glance up at him and nod with a weary smile. "Yeah, I could hear you tossing and turning last night."

Harper bit down on her bottom lip, brows furrowing as she tried to recall whether she had had a nightmare or not. Scott didn't look like he was too bothered anyway, quickly turning to send his beta a wave from across the hall. Lydia linked her arm with Harper's as the bell rang.

"English time," she sang, making Harper exhale loudly.

Nothing felt right.

...

The couple sat around in Harper's bedroom. While Lydia lazily scribbled answers to the maths homework she had been given, Harper laid on her bed, unable to ignore the stress clouding her mind. There was a tight feeling in her chest like something wasn't right, yet she still was unable to put her finger on what. It made her want to scream, although not like the banshee at her desk would.

This sensation had been bothering her all day. It felt like a hot, itchy rash that she couldn't rid from herself and her friends had picked up on it. It annoyed Malia but concerned Scott greatly, especially when Lydia had mentioned to him that she was also concerned at Harper's uncharacteristic attitude.

"Babe, is something bugging you?" Lydia's gentle voice pulled her out of her thoughts, making her turn to look at the strawberry blonde who was watching her with a frown.

Harper shrugged, "just... Has something felt off to you today?"

"A little," she admitted, though she didn't sound as paranoid as her girlfriend. "But I think it's because you've been acting like something's off."

The Empath didn't say anything but her gaze hardened on the duvet covers bunched up in front of her. Everything had been so upside down this morning that she'd even forgotten to make her bed- something she did every morning.

"You need a distraction," Lydia suddenly chirped, dropping her pen on the white desk so it clattered loudly.

She pushed the chair away, smiling seductively at Harper as she began to slowly move over. Harper's eyes enlarged, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as Lydia straddled Harper on the bed. Harper's hands reached out to hold her girlfriend's waist, quickly feeling her body start to react to her.

Lydia pushed some of Harper's dark hair away from her neck, her plump, red-painted lips moving down to attach to the skin there. Harper's breath hitched in her throat, holding onto Lydia tighter. For some reason, this feeling felt foreign to her, despite the fact that she and Lydia were together, although that wasn't to say that she didn't like it.

Her girlfriend's red lipstick smeared across Harper's neck, residing on Harper's tan skin alongside some purple and red markings. The brown-eyed girl's eyes rolled into the back of her head, her fingertips moving under Lydia's shirt to hold her bare waist.

"Lydia," she hissed as the strawberry blonde's hand moved from the back of Harper's neck to her chest.

She cupped her breast over Harper's clothes, smirking when she felt the brunette stifle a moan underneath her. Lydia felt like something was a little off too- that she and Harper weren't supposed to be doing this. She passed it off as guilt for having somewhat of a thing with Parrish last summer, before leaving him hanging for her best friend.

Feeling that Lydia's mind had wandered elsewhere, Harper decided to take control, removing herself from the banshee so that she was now kissing her neck. Lydia groaned, her head rolling to the side as Harper placed wet kisses across her pale skin, hard enough to leave small red marks. The green-eyed girl didn't care, in fact, her hands moved into Harper's hair, keeping her in place from where she was on her knees on the Verum girl's bed. Her fingers began to move to Harper's blouse, making the brunette disconnect from her.

"We can't," she whispered, "Scott and Isaac are in their rooms."

"I told you we should have gone to mine instead," Lydia rolled her eyes, huffing as she gently pushed her girlfriend away, dropping back onto the bed.

"Well, I didn't know we would be doing that," Harper chuckled breathlessly, referring to their intense makeout session that, if they were alone, would have escalated to a lot more.

Her green eyes studied the stars that Harper had painted over a year and a half ago now, but she didn't say anything. Lydia's chest rose and fell as she panted, trying to catch her breath. Harper sent the girl a sly smile and moved to lay down next to her, resting her head on Lydia's chest. Lydia stroked her hair again in response.

They remained silent for a few minutes, Harper realising that Lydia had fallen asleep. Carefully, she moved off of the teenage girl and drifted to her desk, picking up a bottle of water and taking a couple of sips. She watched Lydia sleep with an absentminded frown on her face, that same feeling of something not being right filling her again.

Now that the lust had died down, she was back to her previous state. Harper hated that being with Lydia didn't feel right to her. She felt insanely guilty and disgusting.

She despised the feeling and so she pushed it away, shaking her head softly and moving back to her noticeboard. Pictures of her road trip with Scott from the summer were there, loads of her and Lydia throughout the years, Malia, Isaac and Allison popping up often. She didn't look long enough to notice that lots had just herself in them.

Harper peeled open her bedroom door and scuttled downstairs, throwing her water bottle into the bin. She sent Isaac a smile from where he sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone. Jealousy was seeping from him, making her pause in her tracks.

"What's wrong?" She sat down beside him.

He rolled his eyes, "Malia. Saw her making out with some lacrosse player after school, she went home with him too. I bet they're having sex right now."

Harper's eyes softened, her shoulders sagging in defeat. Despite the fact that they had broken up a while ago, Isaac still wasn't moving on very well. Malia was only just starting to venture out, experimenting with other guys, but it was obvious that the werewolf wasn't taking it too well.

She didn't know what to tell him. Harper knew she needed to tell him to move on, but she didn't know how to do so without hurting his feelings. However, Isaac seemed to understand what she was thinking by the look on her face.

"I know," he huffed quietly, shaking his head. "I need to move on. I just- I don't know where it all went wrong. It feels like she's forgotten how in love we were-"

"Remember how I've been in love with you since we were literally ten."

Harper jolted at the unfamiliar voice that filled her head- like a spark of memory. Isaac noticed her movement, gently grabbing her wrist from where she had almost tumbled off the back of her stool.

Her heartbeat sped up, her lips going dry. That voice... who the hell was that?

She looked to Isaac, thinking for a second he may have said it, but he was staring at her in confusion. Besides, the voice sounded nothing like her werewolf friend.

"You okay?" He smiled a little, not missing her confused look. "You jumped spastically. Reminded me of..." His voice trailed off, brows furrowing. "Hm, I can't remember."

"I've been having that feeling all day," Harper huffed, releasing a dry chuckle. "Um, I'm gonna go to bed actually. Hopefully when I wake up the feeling will fade."

Isaac nodded, "goodnight."

Harper repeated his words and made her way up the stairs slowly, closing the door as she made it to her room. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled off her skirt, changing into a large shirt she had lying about. Lydia stirred as the Empath climbed into bed next to her, pulling the covers over their bodies.

She curled her body into Harper, wrapping her arm across her stomach. Harper stared at the ceiling, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth. She and Lydia had never said 'I love you' to each other, even if they'd been dating for about seven months now.

"Lydia?" Harper whispered, earning a groan in response. "When did you realise you liked me?"

"Mm," the strawberry blonde kept her eyes closed, about to fall back asleep. "Last year."

It wasn't a memory of Lydia, then. That made sense since it had clearly been a man talking, but Harper had never had a proper boyfriend before- let alone have one fall in love with her. All of the confusion was making her head hurt, her mind trying to cling onto something that she was obviously forgetting, but nothing was coming to her.

Harper fell asleep, everything still on the back of her mind.

...

Her fear of the unknown was starting to get to her.

You know that sensation you get when you realised you forgot your homework half-way through the day, and so you knew trouble was inevitable? That was the feeling Harper was experiencing on a never-ending loop. It felt like she was constantly on the verge of a panic attack, her fingers nervously playing with each other on the table.

"Harper?" Mrs Finch called, causing her head to snap up in the direction of the teacher. "I asked you a question. Were you listening?"

The brunette suddenly became conscious of all of the looks she was earning. Her mouth fell open a little as she tried to peer at the blackboard, but it was blank. Scott shot her a look from the front of the room, able to hear her frantic heartbeat from there. Harper's tongue licked her dry lips and she opened her mouth to reply- but nothing came out. Her cheeks burned, her hands trembling.

"Ms Verum?" The biology teacher repeated with a bored tone. "Your lack of mental presence in my class is disturbing, especially so close to the end of your sen-"

She was cut off when Harper darted from her seat, her chair scraping out from underneath her. Panic was swallowing her whole and she couldn't control it. The brunette ignored her teacher yelling her name, running down the hall as fast as she could until she got to an empty classroom. 

Harper dropped down against a wall, tilting her head to the ceiling as she breathed heavily, her entire chest heaving. She couldn't believe that she had snapped so easily- and in front of everyone, too.

A hand touched her arm, making her flinch away from them. She met the concerned eyes of Scott, but that didn't make her feel much better. If anything, it was even more embarrassing to be having a panic attack in front of him, even if he was her best friend.

"Harper," Scott called firmly, "Harper, you need to take slow breaths."

She ignored him, burrowing her face into her hands as she felt hot tears start to cascade down her cheeks. Her shoulders racked, trembling like the rest of her.

"Remember what you need to do when you have panic attacks..." Scott's voice began to fade, another one growing louder in her ears.

"A-a-and remember the way our hands fit together... Like this."

Harper gasped, blinking away tears as she glanced down at her hand. She could feel something there. The alpha studied her with furrowed brows, watching how her breathing stilled, her eyes trained on her hand which she curled inwards like she was holding something.

"Harper?" He whispered, "what's going on?"

She swallowed, her bottom lip still trembling. "I can't remember."

..

"Did you talk to Deaton?" Harper asked from where she stood in the doorway of Scott's bedroom.

He had just brushed his teeth, walking out of the bathroom with nothing but jogging bottoms around his hips, his bare chest on display. Harper didn't feel uncomfortable since Scott was basically her brother- Isaac too. The werewolf nodded, taking a seat on his bed.

"Yeah, he said it's like our subconsciouses are trying to communicate with us and tell us what's missing," he replied, "he said some soldiers get it when they go to war- like... like feeling a pain that can't possibly be there."

Harper nodded her head, "that's exactly what it's like. It's like... Knowing you needed to tell someone something, but you can't even remember the first thing it was."

"Yeah."

"So what else did he say?" She asked eagerly, and Scott realised just how important this whole thing was to her.

Harper wasn't the most elegant of people, but she sure never acted as jittery as she had been all day. Even Lydia had expressed her concern to Scott, but the strawberry blonde had said she'd been having a slightly strange feeling today too.

"He said the best thing we can do is sleep," Scott answered.

"Sleep?" Harper repeated with a huff, "shouldn't we be doing something else? Something more productive?"

"Deaton said that's what we should do, and I trust him," Scott smiled slightly at her, "we're gonna figure this out, Harps."

The brunette sighed, "good. Cause it feels like I'm going insane without... Well, without whatever the hell is missing."

Scott rubbed under his jaw, sending him a look that told her he agreed.

"Thanks, you know," Harper whispered before noticing the strange look he sent her. "For being there for me earlier when I had a panic attack."

"That's what brothers do for their sisters," Scott smiled, opening his arms.

He held the back of her head as he brought her closer, her cheek resting on his shoulder as he ducked slightly. Their arms wrapped around each other, both exhaling in relief at the loving embrace.

After bidding Scott a good night sleep, Harper left his bedroom and moved to her own. She didn't bother to change out of her day clothes, knowing for a fact she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

She was wide awake.


	4. Chapter 4

mischief. 

"Has it really come to this?"

Lydia folded her arms across her chest, staring across the basement at Malia. The werecoyote had chained one of her wrists to a metal bar, but she couldn't reach to get the other. She stood with a deep frown on her face, looking just as confused as Harper had been feeling the past day or so.

The couple had been at their separate houses when they'd received the same text message from Malia, begging them to come down to the school and help her.

Malia ignored the strawberry blonde's comment. "Can you give me a hand?" She asked Harper and Lydia.

"If this is a new after-school club..." Lydia screwed her face up, sighing, "count me out."

"I've got a problem," Malia admitted, causing both girls to raise their eyebrows. "I'm growling at people in class. I'm clawing at my desk. I tried turning the floor of my bedroom into a coyote den."

Harper's eyes softened, watching as the girl raised her wrists where one chain was locked in place, done by herself. She couldn't get to the other one to lock it even if she tried.

"Do these look familiar to you?"

The brunette nodded, "yeah. They're what you always use on a full moon."

Malia huffed, "no, I mean, do you remember who got me these?"

That made Harper go quiet. Not a single memory of her chaining Malia to the basement of the school sprang to mind. She only remembered how she'd always bring the werecoyote snacks and then sit with her after she had calmed down. Harper hated to see Malia in such distress on full moons, but just like the Tate girl, she had no recollection of who had stepped in first.

"Malia, do you really think this is going to keep you safe?" Lydia cut in, gesturing towards the chains.

"They use to. Before the lake house, this is where I'd come for the full moon. But you weren't down here with me. Scott and Isaac weren't down here with me," she glanced over at Harper. "And yeah, I know you came down with me, but I was always tied up by that point."

"Right," Lydia stalled, "so..."

"Who was?" Malia finished her question.

"You couldn't have done it alone," the banshee agreed, seeing the distance that Malia's wrist would have to move while restrained.

It was impossible.

Harper was about to tell Malia that she had been having similar feelings of confusion when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She slid it out, finding a text message from Scott.

"It's Scott," she announced to the girls, glancing up at them nervously. "He wants us to meet him in the woods."

...

Lydia's sleek car pulled up into a clearing in the preserve, just as two torches switched on up ahead. It was too dark to make out much, but the beams of light had provided Harper with enough vision to see the outline of two masculine figures.

Scott and Isaac.

The three girls climbed out of the car, shutting the doors behind them before rushing over. Harper was practically dying from anxiousness on the inside, wondering what Scott had seen in his sleep that had made him come out here. She rubbed her hands together in the cold before accepting a torch from the beta werewolf.

"Thanks," she shivered, smiling at Isaac for a split second before turning to Scott. "Why are we here?"

Scott sucked in a breath before he began to explain. "So, I went to bed at home and I woke up out in the woods- about a mile out. But I think there's a reason why this has happened. I've been out here before, with you, Harper. Remember?"

Harper nodded, "yeah, the first time in sophomore year."

"Right. The night before tryouts for first line. I remember because it was all I could think about," Scott continued, watching his friend's faces.

All of them appeared intrigued, wondering where he was going with this. However, Harper had a feeling she knew what he was going to say. As she dug further into her memories, back to this night over two years ago, she found gaps missing. Key parts that made things make no sense whatsoever.

"What were you two doing?" Malia asked, shooting them a suggestive look.

Lydia glared while Harper grimaced, the thought of doing anything sexual with Scott seeming practically like incest to her. She was technically his foster sister, but they felt like real siblings. There was a platonic bond between them that was unbreakable.

"We were looking for a dead body," Harper raised her brows back.

"That's morbid," Lydia retorted.

Isaac exhaled loudly, "why would you two be looking for a dead body out in the woods in sophomore year? That's... Neither of you would do that. At least not back then."

"Exactly," Scott glanced at the blue-eyed boy with a nod as they trekked past the exact pathway that Scott and Harper had taken that night. "So, why were we out there if we both didn't want to be there?"

"I wish I could help you, but I didn't know you well back then," Lydia muttered, concentrating on not stepping in slippery mud in her black boots.

Malia nodded, "I was still a coyote, so I might've tried to eat it."

"Yeah, and nobody exactly invited me places back then, so it couldn't have been me," Isaac scoffed, recalling his previous loner status.

Before sophomore year, he had never spoken to a single member of the pack for anything other than 'can I borrow a pencil?'. He only started small talk with Harper after that, but he began to get more involved when Derek gave him the bite.

"Deaton said that my subconscious is trying to tell me something," the alpha spoke, "but I need you guys to help me figure out what it's saying."

"Maybe you were just curious teenagers. You heard there was a body," the banshee suggested.

Harper furrowed her brows. "How would either of us know that though? We don't have police scanners, we didn't watch the news. I was doing homework when Scott came over."

"Scott, your mum works at the hospital. Maybe she got called in and you overheard her?" the werecoyote guessed.

"My mum wasn't home that night," Scott paused in his tracks, staring at them all with a crestfallen face. "Harper, I went to your house and then we went to the woods. Your old house was five miles away from here, and neither of us drove. How did we get here?"

Harper just stared back since she didn't have any of the answers that he craved. The brunette was beginning to feel more and more confused, her brown eyes breaking away from his to stare at the leafy ground. It was like her mind was desperately clawing for any possible solution, but nothing was adding up.

Why couldn't she just remember?

"You ran," Isaac shrugged.

"I couldn't have," the McCall boy answered back. "I had asthma. I was hiding, but they knew that I was here."

"Maybe you made a ton of noise with your asthmatic breathing?"

"How would they know it was me? Why would the Sheriff even think that I would be out here?" Scott's eyes snapped to Harper. "And he caught you, and you didn't even get in trouble. He took you home, Harper."

"He knew where I lived," she recalled. "He knew my grandma's name, and she knew him."

"Well, maybe it's because, like most deaths in this town, it was related to the supernatural," Lydia folded her arms across her chest, sending the alpha a pointed look.

"Neither of us were supernatural. I mean, this was the night that I was bitten. Harper wasn't bitten until that night in the school," he glanced around, looking for anything to spark something inside his brain. "I wasn't a werewolf yet. And we weren't out here alone."

Everybody was silent.

"I know this sounds crazy, but I think I had another best friend. And I think he was out here with us that night."

Malia shook her head determinedly, "it doesn't sound crazy. I know that someone chained me up and I think they wanted me to stay human."

Lydia swallowed, "I saw a woman in my class today- dressed like a doctor. And I keep hearing train noises like one's going past. I know there's a reason all of these things are happening to me, and I'm starting to think it's my subconscious trying to get me to remember someone."

"Yeah," Isaac breathed, hating to admit that he had been feeling slightly insane too. "It's been like an itch in the back of my mind that something's not right, but I can't put my finger on it either."

Everybody glanced over to Harper, but she didn't look up at them. Her bottom lip trembled as she caught it between her teeth, looking up to Scott when he called out to her softly. She felt incredibly guilty for what she was about to say in front of Lydia, but it was the truth.

"All day it's like half of me has been missing," she whispered, clenching her hands as they trembled by her sides. "I feel like I'm going insane trying to work out who is supposed to be next to me, and... and I think that whoever it was I..." She glanced over at Lydia, immediately looking away when she met her teary eyes. "I think I cared about them a lot."

She refrained from saying 'love' in front of her girlfriend, but she was sure Lydia had been feeling a little off for the past couple of days too. Everybody knew something was off- that someone was missing that meant a lot to all of them- especially Scott and Harper.

"I know," Lydia whispered, her voice shaking. "Do you remember before we got together, Harper? We were in the girls' bathroom and you were comforting me and I told you that I loved you. Do you remember what I said after?"

"I know how much you love him. Too much to even consider an 'us'."

Harper blinked, wondering who 'he' was. She was almost a hundred percent sure that they had been together at that point, her heartbeat starting to quicken.

Maybe— maybe— with the boy that she apparently loved gone, she had managed to consider 'a them'. Maybe the only reason they were together was because he had disappeared.

Scott stared between them both, not knowing what was going on but sharing a sympathetic glance with his brunette best friend at her teary face.

"What if we're all missing the same person?" Scott asked, pulling out a photograph. "And I think that he was in this picture."

It was the one that Sydney had taken only a few days ago. Malia was sat on the table, Lydia right by her feet on the bench. A blank space was in between her and Harper, Scott on the other side of the Empath. Isaac was sat in front of Malia on the bench, one of her hands on the werewolf's shoulder.

She furrowed her brows as Malia shone the torch at the photo, looking closer. Harper's hand was resting on top of nothing, but she guessed that if it was a person it would have been their leg. She was even leaning into the emptiness, beaming.

Harper pointed her finger at the blank space. "He was sitting right there."

All she wanted was to remember who they had been talking about. That's all she wanted.

To remember.

...

Lydia sat at the metal slab in the middle of the animal clinic, her green eyes trained on the beam of light shining on the glass in front of her. Harper folded her arms across her chest, watching as Lydia clicked her pen nervously. Deaton had suggested that they tried automatic writing to try and remember something, and of course, the Banshee was perfect for that.

"Now she just magically writes down all the answers?" Malia retorted, glancing over the veterinarian that had just finished setting everything up.

"It's not quite that simple," Deaton began.

Isaac cut in with a roll of the eyes, "it never is."

Deaton ignored him, "in automatic writing, the hand moves outside of any conscious awareness. Now hopefully the silence, the darkness, and the light will allow you to find a more comfortable, relaxed, trance-like state. Lydia, I want you to stare into the light and let go of all thought."

Everybody moved away silently, leaving her to her own devices. Scott placed a reassuring hand on Harper's shoulder from where her dark eyes were trained on Lydia like a hawk. She watched as the strawberry blonde hesitantly placed the pen to paper before she began to scribble words.

"I have to warn you," Scott's boss spoke up quietly, "we may not be able to access these memories."

"Why not?" Scott questioned.

"The legend has always been that the Wild Hunt takes people. If what you're telling me is right, the truth is much worse. They erase people from reality."

The brunette's gaze finally tore away from Lydia. "So we'll never remember Stiles?"

"'Stiles'?" Malia repeated, dumbfounded.

Harper frowned at her, not even realising that she had let a name slip rather than a pronoun. Isaac, Scott and Deaton were also looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and shock.

"You said 'Stiles'," Scott reminded her upon noticing her expression, "who is 'Stiles'?"

"I- I don't know," Harper stammered, feeling a little overwhelmed, "I didn't even realise that I had said the name."

"Guys," Lydia called from where she was sat.

She picked up the paper that she had been writing, swallowing thickly as she moved over to the rest of the pack plus Deaton. Malia took the paper from her hands, examining it. 'Mischief' had been written about a hundred times in meandering curves across the page.

"What does 'mischief' mean?" The werecoyote asked, brows furrowed.

"That's not what she wrote," Isaac exhaled, taking the paper and putting it on the slab so that everybody could see it at the angle he had.

Everybody's eyes bugged, minus Lydia who hadn't been a part of the previous conversation. Written out of the word 'mischief' was the name that Harper had accidentally let slip earlier.

Lydia's face was scrunched up incredulously. "What the hell is a Stiles?"

...


	5. Chapter 5

It seemed that the whole pack had endured a sleepless night, tossing and turning as they tried to remember somebody named 'Stiles'. Harper had gone through all of the photos on her pinboard, making two separate piles. One pile was for pictures that were fine, but the other pile was filled with pictures that she thought the mysterious boy should have been in.

'Stiles' made up a lot of them, leading her to believe that they had been extremely close before he had been taken by the Ghost Riders. It was when she saw one where she was kissing thin air that confirmed her suspicions. 'Stiles' had been more than just a friend, and she knew that she had been in love with him.

Whatever Lydia and Harper had was unofficially over. Neither of them felt comfortable knowing there was someone out there that Harper was in love with, but they had yet to talk about it.

Currently, Harper and Scott both had a free period, so they were using it to their advantage. They sat around the brunette's laptop in the library, trying to find something- anything.

"Type in 'Stiles'," Scott recommended, "it might come up with something."

Harper did as she was told, her dainty fingers dancing across the keyboard. She hit enter once she had typed the five letters, leaning back to scan the screen. The dictionary definition of 'stile' came up, making her huff.

"'Stile'," Scott read out loud, "'an arrangement of steps that allows people, but not animals, to climb over a fence'."

His eyebrows pinched together as he glanced at Harper. She'd already dropped her head into her hands, shaking it.

"Steps," she scoffed mockingly, "that's all that comes up?"

"Well, the name 'Stiles' isn't exactly a popular one, is it?" A voice behind them retorted, causing the two best friends to swivel around in their chairs, "if anything, it should be a surname."

Isaac stood there with his arms folded across his chest, his blue eyes reading off of the screen. He'd been the first to make fun of the boy's name when they found out it was a 'Stiles' they were looking for, much to Harper's annoyance. She had no idea why she felt the need to defend him so much but guessed that it was due to whatever connection she had had with him in the past.

"Maybe Malia or Lydia found something?" Scott tried to brighten the teenage girl slumped over next to him.

"Malia's been taking a make-up test all morning," Isaac huffed, "and Lydia is... coming this way."

They glanced up, watching as the strawberry blonde moved over to their table and took the seat right in front of them. She released a stressed sigh, indicating that she had clearly found nothing on 'Stiles'.

"All this thinking is hurting my head," Lydia groaned, massaging her temples. "I was looking through photos last night and I found winter formal ones."

She reached into her bag, pulling out some printed off pictures. Lydia slid them across the table, allowing Harper, Isaac and Scott to look at them. There was a lacrosse player called Harry who had his arms around Lydia's waist while she beamed at the camera. Harper was stood next to Lydia, turned to the side in the same position. Harper's hands appeared to be on something invisible and it looked like someone should have been stood behind her copying the pose.

Isaac glanced up to see Harper's reaction. Her eyes had softened, a sort-of defeated expression on her face as she turned over the next picture. Again, it looked like she was leaning her head on someone, but nothing was there. Everybody knew that's where 'Stiles' would have been. Or had been.

Harper's heart was hammering in her chest as memories of that night flooded back to her. Her grandma had taken those pictures and she remembered how much Rose had gushed over Harper and whoever she had gone to the dance with. It must have been 'Stiles', but she hated the fact that she couldn't remember.

"It looks like you two had been together for a while," Lydia whispered, sending her a sad smile.

Harper nodded, not knowing exactly what to say. She gently caressed the photo where the blank space was. 'Stiles' had been in her house. She had touched her, and he had touched him. It was insane to her how she could forget someone that had been such a big part of her life.

Scott placed a hand on the solemn girl's arm. "You know what that means, right?"

"What?" Harper murmured, glancing back up at him.

"It means if anyone has a shot at remembering 'Stiles', it's gotta be you, Harper," Lydia swallowed, "you were in love with him."

"You still are," Isaac added, "you just can't remember."

There was a short silence. A coyote's howl suddenly echoed throughout the building, making the four teenagers sit up straight. Lydia scrambled to put all of the pictures back in her bag while Harper shut her laptop, tucking it under her arm.

"I guess the test isn't going well," Isaac muttered, knowing that it was Malia who had clearly made the animal noise.

The pack found her in the basement, Isaac and Scott at the front as they slowly tried to approach the coyote huddled in the corner. Malia's eyes shone electric blue as she snarled, baring her teeth as a warning. Lydia and Harper came rushing down the basement steps, Ms Martin and Sheriff Stilinski right behind them.

"Malia, it's okay," Scott held his hand out, trying to comfort her, "you're safe."

Isaac nodded, "we're not going to hurt you."

Malia growled loudly in response, only growing louder and becoming more confident, taking a step out of the corner.

"Maybe you should growl back?" The Sheriff suggested, raising his eyebrows. "Scott, you're the alpha. Can't you just make her a little more docile?"

"She's not the problem," Lydia whispered from next to Harper, "we are. This is her territory. We need to get out of here."

Scott nodded and they moved around the corner.

"Malia came here to get through the full moons," the banshee explained, "then we started using the lakehouse and Isaac started to help her."

Natalie Martin furrowed her brows. "I thought you said a wild animal got in the lake house?"

"Just be happy about all of the things I don't tell you," Lydia whispered back.

Suddenly, the growling grew lower. Everybody turned, watching as the creature stalked out of her hiding place, slowly morphing into the human version of Malia. Harper breathed out a sigh of relief, meanwhile, Natalie and Noah looked away, slightly horrified to have seen the teenage girl naked.

Mistaking their looks for concern, Malia shook her head. "It's alright. I'm okay," she insisted nonchalantly.

Mrs Martin moved forward, handing her a jacket.

"Any idea what made her shift?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

Isaac sighed, "she's under a lot of pressure. School, her life after graduation."

"Her mum trying to kill her," Lydia added.

"That shouldn't make her shift," Scott thought out loud, shaking his head. "Could it be connected to 'Stiles'?"

Harper pursed her lips at the thought. "I'm willing to bet on it."

Meanwhile, Lydia shrugged, "it's hard to tell since we don't know what a 'Stiles' is."

"It's a 'he'," Noah confirmed to them, although Harper had already known that was his name. She had felt it.

"Who?" Isaac asked.

"Stiles. It's a family nickname. I never used it, but my father did," Sheriff Stilinski elaborated, causing the three teenagers to glance at each other knowingly.

...

Claudia Stilinski wandered into the living room of her household, sending the three teenagers a smile as she handed her husband a box. She took a seat next to him on the couch while Noah dug through them, pulling out old photographs.

"He was an Army engineer," he sighed, handing the photo to Scott. "Ended the war one bridge at a time."

"And he went by 'Stiles'," Scott smiled, looking at the picture of a man wearing the uniform.

"So what's this got to do with the Wild Hunt?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, looking towards Harper who was rubbing her hands together, looking around the living room nervously.

Harper was sure that she had never stepped foot inside the Stilinski household before, but she could feel herself her, or rather her past emotions. She could feel Scott's emotions here too, but she knew that he had never been around the Sheriff's house either.

Most of hers were coming from down the hallway, and it overwhelmed her how happy a lot of them were. It filled her chest with something unfamiliar- like a sense of urgency. Something must have happened here.

"We think that somebody was taken from us," Scott began, his voice soft.

"No, we know," Harper corrected him.

"Any idea who?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"The Ghost Riders have erased our memories," the alpha shook his head.

The older man huffed, "uh, well that's convenient."

"We found a clue," Lydia spoke up rather bluntly, "the word 'Stiles'."

Claudia pursed her lips, "and that's why you want to talk to Elias."

"Yeah, maybe he can help us figure it out," Scott nodded eagerly, "maybe he knows who we're looking for."

"Now this is someone your age?" Noah asked.

Harper nodded quickly, "yeah, he is. He was my boyfriend. Scott's friend."

"Best friend," the McCall boy corrected her softly, his eyes cast down on the carpet below his feet, causing Lydia's lips to twitch up into a small, sympathetic smile.

Noah stood up off of the couch. "I can guarantee you, my father can't help you."

"We couldn't try?" Scott questioned.

"Scott, he lives in a nursing home three towns over. Hasn't had a visitor in years," the older man shook his head.

"Can I use your bathroom?" Lydia suddenly blurted, making Claudia nod and smile.

The banshee stood up from her seat, rushing into the hallway. Harper watched, her brows furrowed as she disappeared. After a few seconds, Claudia turned to Harper.

"Do you want to make sure she finds the right door? It's the last one on the left," the woman suggested.

Nodding, Harper left the room, pausing when she found Lydia stood in the middle of the hallway. She was just staring at something, her hand reaching out to touch it.

"Lydia?" She whispered, accidentally snapping her out of it. "Lydia, did you see him? Did you see Stiles?"

The Empath suddenly froze, swallowing as she glanced at the wall to her side. That's where all of the emotions were coming from, but there was no room there. No door. Nothing. Her hand gently reached out and she touched it, an unfamiliar laugh filling her ears.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

She flinched back, shuddering as Lydia touched her arm.

"Did you see the woman?" The banshee asked in a hushed tone, "did she tell you that she was late for her train too?"  
"Did you see the woman?" The banshee asked in a hushed tone, "did she tell you that she was late for her train too?"

Harper shook her head, wetting her dried lips with her tongue. "I heard him," she whispered, "and I can feel myself behind that wall. My emotions. I was happy."

Lydia pursed her lips, sharing a concerned look with the brown-eyed girl. Something was going on in this house. Grabbing Harper's hand, she lead them both back into the living room where Scott was still trying to convince Sheriff Stilinski to let them meet Elias.

"You're not hearing me. Trust me, you don't wanna talk to him."

"We just need a few minutes," Scott insisted.

"Scott, my father can't help you-"

"Just a few questions. Five minutes-"

Noah suddenly snapped, "you know what? You don't just 'talk' to this guy, okay? Just find another way."

"But what if there is no other way?" Scott pleaded, "Sheriff-"

"Scott, you have your answer," Claudia cut in softly from where she was still sat on the couch, watching the men with worried eyes.

"The answer's no."

...

"I can't believe we're about to break into a nursing home," Scott muttered, although it had been his plan to go against Sheriff Stilinski's word in the first place.

The five teenagers were approaching the nursing home that Elias Stilinski was supposedly in, all a little nervous to find out why Noah had been so adamant on them not talking to this man.

"After the orderlies at Eichen House, pretty sure we can handle some nurses," Malia retorted, pushing past Lydia and Isaac before waltzing into the room.

Harper watched with raised brows as the teenage girl approached the man behind the counter. Before he could finish talking on the phone, Malia had reached behind his head and slammed it down onto the desk, knocking him straight out after a few curse words.

Isaac rolled his eyes, stepping behind the desk to grab the man's legs. He started to haul him into a janitor's closet nearby.

It didn't take long for Lydia to look up the room that Elias was in and for them to find him after. They turned the corner, watching wearily as the old man sat in a chair, staring into space. Old music played through a record player, scratchy and muffled.

Elias turned in his chair when he heard the five teenagers come up behind him, Scott sending him a small smile.

"Yes?" He croaked, voice still shaky. "Oh. Is it time for my medicine?"

Isaac crossed his arms against his chest. "Do we look like your nurses?"

"We don't have your medicine," Malia deadpanned, making Harper shoot the ex-couple a slight glare.

The old man just slumped back in his seat at the table, eyes burning back into the oak wood ahead of him. His hands remained limp in his lap, his fallen expression unchanging. Harper could feel sadness and confusion burning behind his eyes, making her feel sympathetic towards the old man.

"Are you Elias Stilinski?" Lydia asked.

"I am."

"I'm Lydia Martin," the banshee introduced herself with a hopeful smile, thinking that maybe all of the older people she had been seeing over the past couple of days might have something to do with him. "Do you know who I am?"

"Should I?"

"Hey, Mr Stilinski," Scott cut in softly, "we're looking for somebody who might be named Stiles. You went by that name in the army, right?"

"Yes," he reminisced, "best years of my life."

"Sir," Harper spoke up politely, "do you know any of us?"

"Of course I do," Elias confirmed, making everybody glance at him in surprise. He looked up at Isaac. "How could I forget my own son?"

"Son?" Isaac repeated, shaking his head.

"Mr Stilinski," Lydia asked in a dreaded tone, "what year is it?"

Without hesitation, Elias answered, "1976. It's my son's birthday next week."

That explained the confusion that Harper could feel coming from him before. She watched as the old man looked back down at the table. She sighed.

"He has dementia," Lydia deadpanned to the rest of their friends.

Elias glanced back up, "is it time for my medicine?"

...

"Isaac Lahey?" Elias repeated, glancing up at the said boy and shaking his head, "no, no, no. You are my son."

Isaac glanced to Harper who was next to him, rolling his eyes at the frustrating situation. 

"Keep it down, old guy," Malia hissed, aware of how much time had passed since they had arrived  
"Keep it down, old guy," Malia hissed, aware of how much time had passed since they had arrived. "You'll wake the other old people."

By now it had grown dark and they were sure the man in the cupboard wasn't going to remain passed out forever. It was only a matter of time before someone caught them.

Malia moved down and picked a single pea out of Elias' dinner, shoving it in her mouth. She did it again a couple of times, making Lydia look at her strangely. Elias turned to Harper and Scott.

"I don't like her," he muttered.

Harper sighed, sitting down in the seat next to Elias. He stared at her, thin brows pulled together slightly. She tried a calm approach, sending him a soft smile.

"Your son is Noah Stilinski and he's the Sheriff of Beacon Hills," Harper started.

"Sheriff?" The old man repeated, dumbfounded. "No, no, no, no. I was in the army."

"Not anymore," Isaac huffed, turning to face the alpha stood next to him. "Scott, just use your claws. Make him remember."

Scott shook his head, "it could kill him."

"Yeah, we get that, but we're running out of time," Malia reminded him.

"I can't!"

Growling, Malia acted out on impulse and flicked her claws out, determined to try it herself. Scott quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. Elias saw the claws that had sprouted from the teenage girl's nails and he jolted in his seat.

"We're not hurting him," Scott finished, sending her a look that said his word was final.

"Young lady," Elias spoke up, "you need to clip those nails."

Malia just stared at him, not impressed. It was like something had suddenly snapped in the old man and he began to shake his head, pointing at all of the teenagers.

"You shouldn't be here," he warned them, "if you don't leave, I'll have to report you."

"What's wrong with him?" Harper glanced at the strawberry blonde for answers.

"The sun went down," Lydia muttered, watching as Elias began to mutter away to himself, picking up pieces of cards and shuffling them about, "he's sundowning. It's when dementia patients lose their faculties after the sun goes down."

Elias began to breathe heavily, "I don't want to talk to you anymore!" He yelled, waving the paper around.

Cautiously, Harper raised from her seat next to him, moving closer to Scott. Malia paced around the room, shaking her head.

"So what do we do?" Harper asked nervously.

"We wait until the sun comes back up," Lydia replied.

"We can't wait that long," Isaac insisted, glancing at the man who was repeating 'no' over and over again, clawing at everything on the desk.

"There's gotta be something we can do to keep him quiet," the McCall boy spoke.

"Leave, leave, leave, leave!" Elias cried.

"I can calm him down," Malia tried to persuade.

"No!" Harper, Scott and Lydia replied instantly.

Lydia dived into her bag, pulling out some maths. She'd kept it when Noah had said he was an engineer during the war, realising that maybe he'd feel comforted by something he was familiar with. After all, he had said that those were the best days of his life.

"Elias, look at the equations," she slammed the paper on the table in front of him. "look. It's bionomial probability. What's 'p'?"

He calmed, staring at the sheets. "Uh- uh- Probability of success."

"Right," Lydia nodded, "and that means N minus K is?"

"Um," Elias tapped on the table, trying to remember. "Number of trials minus the number of successes."

"What's with the math?" Malia scoffed, shovelling more peas into her mouth.

Lydia shrugged, "it helps dementia patients to concentrate. What about the next one?"

Elias grinned, "that's conditional probability."

"Let's find the moment of inertia," the banshee insisted, shuffling through paper. "Elias."

The old man frowned, "that's Mr Stilinski. Just who the hell do you think you are?"

Lydia smiled, realising that it had worked.

...

"You know Isaac isn't your son?" Harper questioned softly, watching as the old man's face scrunched up.

"Of course I know that!" He scoffed, looking at her incredulously from where she stood with her arms gently folded across her middle. "Are brains getting smaller with the skirts?"

Harper didn't like what he had said at all but bit down on her bottom lip to stop herself from saying anything. Malia, however, growled. 

"Malia, it's okay," Scott held his hand out, sending her a warning look.

"So, you're that McCall kid," Elias glanced down at Scott.

"You know me?"

"I know your dad," he huffed back, "couldn't hold his liquor, and he certainly couldn't keep his wedding ring on his finger. Pretty, young thing would walk by and poof, that ring just disappeared like magic."

Isaac clenched his jaw. Despite knowing the man had a medical condition, the werewolf couldn't help but want to hit him. He refrained himself from doing so, folding his arms across his chest and glancing over at Scott who looked a little heartbroken.

"Do you know all of us?" Lydia asked bitterly.

"You're Natalie Martin's girl... Am I right?" He pointed at the banshee. "You look like her. She was pretty once, too."

Malia growled once more. Harper was just glad her parents hadn't been around for as long. He would have had a field day mocking them.

"And she also always liked to talk like she was the smartest person in the room," Elias recalled, and Malia couldn't hold back anymore.

"Malia!" Harper gasped while Isaac grabbed her wrists, tugging her clawed hands back.

"Enough!" A voice boomed from the doorway, making them turn to face Sheriff Stilinski. "I explicitly told you not to come here. And who attacked a staff member?"

"That's her," the man next to him pointed at Malia nervously.

Noah's face scrunched up, "what the hell were you thinking?"

"Noah, we were just having a nice conversation," Elias cut in, starting to walk- or more like stumble- over to his son.

"The five of you, out," ordered the Sheriff. "Now."

Harper didn't hesitate to listen, quickly grabbing her jacket off of the chair and leaving first. Her friends followed right behind, Sheriff Stilinski last.

"That's right!" The old man yelled from the room, "Act like I'm not even here! Go crawling back to your dead wife and your loser son!"

Noah turned around. "What did you say?" He whispered, glad the teenagers were long gone.

Elias' face fell slack. "Is it time for my medicine yet?"

...

Harper, Lydia, Malia, Isaac and Scott all stood in the middle of the Sheriff's station opposite Ms Martin, looking around the room shamefully. The five teenagers were all awaiting their verdict, anxious to find out what was going to happen to them now that they had been caught.

"We know this looks bad-" Scott began.

"It doesn't look bad, Scott," Natalie snapped, cutting him off. "It is bad. You broke into a nursing home, you harrassed a dementia patient, and you beat up a nurse. This could affect the rest of your lives! Especially you, Malia. They're talking felony assault."

The werecoyote rolled her eyes. "I didn't beat him up. I could have, but I chose not to."

Harper tilted her head to the side, "that's an improvement."

The door to their left suddenly opened and Sheriff Stilinski entered  
The door to their left suddenly opened and Sheriff Stilinski entered. He didn't appear mad at the pack for visiting his father anymore, but he wasn't too pleased either.

"By some miracle, the nurse decided to drop the charges," he quickly explained, "they're free to go."

Lydia looked more relieved than Malia, who smiled smugly at Ms Martin.

The redhead woman sighed, looking to her daughter. "Just because you're not going to jail doesn't mean you're not grounded for eternity."

"Come on," Scott placed his hand on Harper's arm and Isaac's shoulder. "Let's get out of her before mum gets off her shift and notices we're not home."

...

Harper stumbled tiredly through the door, Isaac catching her before she tripped over the small step. She murmured something under her breath, glancing up to see the state the house was in. She was taken aback to see empty bottles everywhere, furniture smashed and picture frames fallen.

Stood in the middle of it was Liam Dunbar.

Scott paused in his tracks, looking around and biting the inside of his cheek to refrain himself from yelling. He glanced over at the staircase, seeing that half of the bannister had caved in.

"What the hell happened here?" Isaac retorted, not holding back at the other beta.

Liam shrugged, "you said to find a safe space. So we brought the party here."

Harper recalled Scott briefly explaining that a girl named Gwen was next to be taken by the Ghost Riders, however, she hadn't really put much thought into it. She'd been more focused on finding out who this 'Stiles' person was rather than trying to protect someone inevitably about to be taken. Besides, Liam and his friends had already taken it into their own hands.

"Who said to throw a party at all?" Scott asked although he didn't sound angry.

"At least we saved Gwen."

"But you saw one of the Ghost Riders," the alpha sighed.

"Corey made him visible so we could fight him."

"All right, but doesn't the book say that if you see the Wild Hunt, you'll be taken too?" Isaac asked.

"Everyone at the party saw them."

Harper groaned, rubbing her temples. "Does that mean half the school's about to be taken by the Ghost Riders?"

"I should have been here," Scott groaned.

...

Isaac was helping Liam clean up downstairs while Scott and Harper moved upstairs, where apparently the party had also moved to. The Empath sighed when she noticed the mess in her bedroom, red solo cups everywhere. Her bed was ruffled making her grimace. She just hoped people had used it as a seat and not... something else.

The brunette picked up a red solo cup off of the desk, huffing at one that had sat spilt everywhere. Harper gasped, grabbing her sketchbook that had been caught in the incident. She opened it, finding every page had been stained as a consequence.

Anger bubbled in her stomach, her fingertips touching the material that was still slightly damp but drying disgustingly. She flipped every page, pausing when she got to one in particular. It was just a pair of eyes, and while she didn't recognise them, they seemed breathtakingly familiar to her.

They were shades of brown, flickers of gold embedded into the hazel irises. The pair of eyes had dark, long lashes fanning out of them and thick, but tidy, eyebrows sat above. Above one brow was a beauty mark, and she had dotted a few more across the page in specific places without drawing the rest of the face.

"Stiles," she whispered as if testing the name out to see if it matched the eyes. "Stiles. Stiles."

Harper placed the sketchbook back down, taking a deep breath. She was sure that she hadn't come up with these eyes out of nowhere.

She wandered down the hall, peeking into Scott's room to see that he was talking with Sheriff Stilinski. Except he wasn't in his uniform, so she guessed it had nothing to do with work. Harper stood in the doorway, making the older man smile at her.

"Hi, Harper," Noah murmured, "you know, something you two said today has been bugging me all day. Something about memories."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"Have you ever had a dream that's- that's so real that you thought it was a memory?" He questioned, watching as Harper nodded. "Okay, in this dream, I'm lying in bed with Claudia, it's a couple weeks before we graduate from college, and we're talking about the future and kids and what we'll call them.

"And I tell her if we have a son, I want to name him after her father. And she laughs at me and she says, 'why would you want to saddle some poor kid with a name like that?'. And I told her, 'because he's a great father, the kind of father I wish I had, the kind I hope to be'.

"And at that point in the dream, she smiles, kisses me, and she says, 'okay. We'll name him that. But it won't matter. He'll just be called Stiles anyway.'"

Harper's breath hitched in her throat.

Stiles Stilinski?


	6. Chapter 6

Harper moved to sit down beside Scott, smiling shyly at the shaggy-haired boy and his friend sat next to him. Both Scott and Stiles grinned back, Stiles presenting his missing front tooth to her. Immediately she began to feel a little calmer in the presence of the two boys, snuggled at the back of the classroom and away from the spotlight.

"W-we don't think you talk funny," Scott disclaimed sweetly, recalling the blush that had been on her cheeks from before, "it sounds nice."

Stiles nodded quickly from next to his friend. "Yeah, like Hermione or something!" He exclaimed, "and I can be Ron because he has the best jokes and Scott can be Harry because he's a nerd."

The small girl released a giggle, causing Stiles' smile to widen. Not many people thought that his jokes were good enough to laugh at, so he automatically decided this new girl was good enough to sit with him and Scott on their lone table of two.

"You're funny," she complimented.

Stiles blushed- he couldn't help it. Scott sent him a knowing look, making the Stilinski boy shake his head and stick his tongue out. Harper smiled at them both, not quite understanding that she had set them off but knowing that they were more entertaining than any of the people she had been friends with back in her old school.

"So, Harper," Scott grinned, making Stiles shoot him a look, "did you have a boyfriend at your old school?"

The brunette turned her nose up, "boys are gross. No offence."

"We're boys," Stiles frowned, "are we gross?"

Harper hummed as if thinking about it, tapping the bottom of her chin and look up at the ceiling.

"I guess I'll make an exception for the two of you."

Harper gasped awake, her hand on her heart as it pounded rapidly. She knew the dream that she had had was, in fact, a memory, and she had seen him.

Sure, it was Stiles when he was nine-years-old, but it was something.

He had dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin. If she remembered correctly from her dream, which was starting to become blurry even seconds later, he had moles splattered like a constellation on the side of his face and a cute, button nose.

She snatched her sketchpad from her bedside table, finding it already opened on the page from last night. Her fingers skimmed back over his eyes, her hands touching the beauty marks dotted around.

They were just like the one from her dream.

Stiles must have been best friends with Scott before she even moved to Beacon Hills, and then he must have befriended her at the tender age of nine.

Harper's heart clenched, her hands starting to tremble against the rough paper. A tear fell from one of her dark eyes, landing straight on the sketch in front of her. Some of it smudged, rolling away with her tear. It made it look like 'Stiles' was crying too.

It only made her cry harder, silent, ugly sobs working their way up her throat and threatening to pour from her as loud, agonising screams. She managed not to, the tight feeling in her chest aching. Her subconscious yearned for him, but she couldn't even remember him.

Harper was mourning over someone she couldn't even remember.

A knock came from her door, but before she could even reply to the person behind it, it had pushed it open.

Lydia sent her an uneasy smile although her face dropped when she saw the state that Harper was in. Quickly shutting the door behind her, she rushed over to the brunette and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Harper, what happened?" She panicked, her green eyes casting down to the sketchpad sprawled out on her lap.

Lydia picked it up, examining it with furrowed brows. She didn't recognise the eyes in the slightest.

"That's him," Harper sobbed, her finger pressing down on the art that she had managed to ruin with her tears, "that's Stiles."

A sympathetic look crossed Lydia's features and she was then pulling the shorter girl into a hug. Harper wrapped her arms around Lydia, inhaling the comforting smell of her perfume as she closed her eyes, the tears still rolling. Lydia had no idea what Harper was experiencing right now, but she guessed it was a mixture of a lot of emotions at once.

She stroked Harper's hair, whispering sweet words of comfort as she began to calm down. Lydia bit her bottom lip, deciding that maybe now wasn't the best time to say what she had come over to say.

Harper and Lydia had yet to officially break up so Lydia was about to suggest they did it before the strawberry blonde became too invested and it hurt too much when it eventually happened.

Of course, she liked Harper still, but she knew that whatever they had wasn't real. It was an illusion created by the Ghost Riders of what life would be like without this Stiles person.

Without Stiles, Harper would have ended up with Lydia. But Lydia didn't want to be with Harper for that reason, especially knowing that Harper was yearning for someone else to lay in bed with her at night and stroke her hair while she cried.

So instead, Lydia said nothing and carried on whispering sweet nothings, cooing Harper into a dreamless sleep- this time with no little Stiles.

Just darkness.

...

"It's a relic," Lydia stated, looking at the library card that Malia and Scott had handed to her in the middle of the hallway.

They stood by Harper's locker, the brunette herself leaning against the cool metal. Everybody could tell that something had happened to her last night, however, nobody said anything.

They knew that she didn't want to talk. Not only because they understood the Empath well, but because Lydia had threated Malia not to ask this morning when the werecoyote had almost stomped over to a moping Harper.

Harper had chucked her hair into a bun, waves falling to frame her face. Minimum makeup decorated her features and she wore a casual dress with some tan boots. Books were tucked in her arms as she silently observed her friends.

"What's a relic?" Malia frowned.

"An object with a fix association to the past," Lydia explained, "Jake's ID was left behind after he was taken and Gwen found her sister's bracelet on her bedroom floor."

"Wait, hang on a sec," Isaac raised a hand, still not quite following along. "How can someone be erased and still leave something behind? That kind of defeats the whole purpose of them being erased, doesn't it?"

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, "well, maybe not exactly. Conservation of mass." She didn't miss the strange looks her friends shot her, so she continued, "the total mass of any isolated system remains constant."

"So even the Ghost Riders have a weakness," Scott noted.

Harper swallowed, pushing herself away from the locker behind her. She wanted to stick to it for the rest of the day and not move, but she had to get over herself eventually. Her grip on her books tightened and she nodded at her friends who had all turned to look at her, mixtures of sympathy behind their eyes.

"That means Stiles must have left something," the English girl insisted, "if everyone else has, he must of too."

Scott nodded eagerly, "then maybe we can get him back."

"We will," Harper corrected him sternly as the bell rang for the next period, "we have to."

...

Harper sat in her next lesson, tapping her pencil against the desk rapidly. People were talking around her, drowning the noise out but not her thoughts.

All she could think about was the relic that Jake had left behind and the one from Gwen's sister; both people she didn't know, or at least couldn't remember.

If they had left something then Stiles must have too. Right now the only connection they had to who Stiles had been was the dream that Harper had last night and the fact that Stiles could have possibly been Sheriff Stilinski's son.

If Stiles was going to leave something anywhere, she guessed that it would be at his own house. Sheriff Stilinski and Claudia's house.

"Stop," a hand stretched out and grabbed her wrist, halting her movements.

Harper's eyes lifted to meet Isaac's blue ones. He wore an annoyed expression on his face, although he looked like he regretted snapping as soon as he remembered who he was talking to, his eyes softening.

"Just— please, stop tapping your pencil," his voice was less aggravated this time as he turned to look down at the maths sheets on his desk.

"Wanna ditch?" Harper whispered, dropping her pen back onto the table.

"We can't," Isaac hissed back as the class quietened, the teacher moving to the front, "it's senior year. I have too many absences already."

Harper slumped in her seat, rolling her eyes.

"As I was saying five minutes ago," the teacher's monotone voice carried out through the room as he turned his back to the class, writing on the chalkboard. "Substituting accurately into the quadratic formula is absolutely key to getting the last mark in the question-"

The werewolf huffed, "meet me outside in five minutes."

...

"You three want to search my house?" Noah Stilinski raised his eyebrows from behind the desk, looking up at Harper, Isaac and Lydia who stood in his office.

Lydia sighed, "people are leaving things behind. If Stiles left something behind-"

"Why would it be there?" He cut her off.

Harper raised her eyebrows at him slightly, although she wore a calm expression. Noah noticed the way she was looking at him and sighed.

For whatever reason, he had a soft spot for the Verum girl. Maybe it was because he had been the one to deliver her the painful news thats he was an orphan at age twelve, or maybe it had something to do with this Stiles character.

The Sheriff pursed his lips. "I couldn't sleep last night. So, um, I got up and I figured I'd do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car, so I go to the garage, and some junk has fallen off the shelf and I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat. Without thinking I yelled a name..."

Harper swallowed, "Stiles."

...

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Claudia Stilinski asked from where she stood in the doorway, smiling kindly at the three teenagers stood looking around in her living room.

Harper sent the woman a smile back, "no, thank you, Mrs Stilinski."

"Well, good luck. I'll leave you three to it," she sent them one last nod, almost appearing nervous before she left the room.

The brunette glanced around at all of the picture frames. Each one contained a different image of the Sheriff and his wife, both looking as happy as they could be. The house was clean and quite plain- not a single thing out of place.

"So what now?" Isaac asked quietly, noticing the furrowed brows on the shortest girl. "Do we wait for your Empath abilities to kick in? Or is Lydia gonna do something?"

"Shh," the strawberry blonde smacked his arm, staring at Harper who was watching the hallway with an almost knowing look. "I think Harper's got this."

Harper's hands were clenched by her sides, her mind growing slightly fuzzy as she moved into the hallway that she had been in just a couple of days ago. Her body was filling with emotions, and again, they were mostly happy- and hers for that matter.

But then something else hit her.

Something strong.

She stumbled back, Isaac and Lydia both clasping one of her arms and quickly asking if she was okay. Harper ignored them, her brown eyes glistening as she put her hand on the wall, feeling warmth seep through.

Not thermal warmth- an Empathic warmth that came along with the feeling of happiness and content. She shivered at the wholesome experience, her fingertips drumming on the wallpaper. She moved along the hall, dragging the tips of her fingers lightly to not make any marks on the decoration.

She paused where there was a cabinet in the way, her knuckles immediately curling into a fist. Harper moved to knock there- the action being more of an instinct than a thought.

"What the fu-"

"Isaac, shut the hell up," Lydia warned him for the second time, although she was feeling a little weirded out too.

She wondered if this was what she looked like when she was having a Banshee moment.

"I'm so happy you're my girl."

Harper jolted as a hand grabbed her wrist, squeezing it as they pulled her back. Her eyes widened on Claudia who was glaring at her, pulling her off of the wallpaper that she had torn into a little without even realising it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The Stilinski woman shrieked.

"Let go of her," Isaac warned sternly, causing Claudia to release Harper.

Claudia's hand went up to the tear and she smoothed it out, her angry expression not faltering for a second. Harper was shocked at herself, not recalling ever doing the act.

"I-I'm sorry," the Empath stammered, "I- I don't know what I was thinking, I shouldn't have even done that."

"I think that's something we can both agree on," Claudia snapped back.

Lydia pursed her lips, "Harper come on. Let's leave Mrs Stilinski alone."

Harper nodded, still dazed as Lydia gently reached out and clasped the brunette's hand. She watched the area that she had been as she was removed from the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what was behind the wall.

Stiles' bedroom.

..

"Did you tear Claudia Stilinski's wallpaper?" A concerned voice spoke from the doorway of Harper's bedroom, causing her to glance up from her laptop screen with an ashamed expression.

Melissa stood there, her arms folded as she stared at her teenage daughter, a worried look on her tan face. Harper could feel that Melissa wasn't angry with her, just embarrassed and a little tense. She'd received the call only a few minutes ago and was shocked to find that it hadn't been Scott or Isaac in trouble but the Verum girl.

"Melissa, I didn't mean to do it, I swear," Harper disclaimed bashfully, setting the laptop beside her as her foster mother entered the room, sitting on the edge of her bed. "I... I was overwhelmed by everything I was feeling and by the time I'd snapped out of it, Claudia was already pulling me away."

The Hispanic woman sighed, already stressed from the other supernatural occurrences going on that she had involved Chris Argent in. Harper was somewhat aware of the dead bodies that had been turning up around Beacon Hills with chunks missing from their heads, however, Harper knew Liam and his friends had that section of the supernatural on their radar.

Meanwhile, Harper was more concerned about the Ghost Riders taking somebody very important to her. Stiles Stilinski; the boy she knew she loved but couldn't remember.

"She's worried about your mental health again," Melissa admitted, "she even informed Natalie Martin about it."

"Lydia's mum?" Harper sat up straighter, furrowing her brows. "Why?"

"Natalie's taken over after Morrell, as you know by now," Melissa explained, "although, Natalie phoned and agreed that it wasn't a good idea that you stopped your counselling sessions after Morrell left the school. She wants you to start up again. At least one session per week."

Harper groaned, biting down on her bottom lip. "I don't have time," she stressed, "between my AP classes and all of this Stiles stuff going on, I can't miss a period every week. I need to study and- and I need to find him."

Melissa's eyes softened. She'd had no idea how stressed Harper had been feeling. The mother of three knew that Scott had been worried about his AP Biology class and Isaac was just worried about his social life with Malia, but she'd always assumed Harper was just breezing by- happy with Lydia and acing all of her classes with no problems.

"This Stiles person," Melissa murmured, her eyes casting over to Harper's screen where she had been googling things to do with relics, "you've been doing all of this stuff to prove that he's real, right? Because that's what you believe."

"It's not what I believe," Harper breathed, feeling her chest grow tight. She knew what Melissa was going to say and it hurt her. "It's what I know."

The McCall woman shook her head gently, "that's exactly what I mean, Harper. Maybe you're doing all of this because you're so adamant that he's real, but have you ever considered the possibility that he isn't? That maybe you're all paranoid because of the Ghost Riders and you've created this question in your mind to fill a gap in your life? It could be stress."

Harper clenched her jaw, turning away so she didn't have to look at Melissa. She was worried if she looked into her eyes then she would burst into tears.

"He's real, Melissa," Harper swallowed, "Stiles is real."

...

Melissa had left to go to work about half an hour later. Harper had considered going to the lacrosse game at the school, however not only was it chucking down with rain, but Scott had told her there was a possibility the Ghost Riders would show up tonight and try and take everyone from the party. So that wasn't an option.

Harper's phone began to ring, causing her to glance down at the device. Lydia was calling.

"Hello?"

"Meet me at the hospital. I told my mum about everything you could feel, everything I saw and everything we think we know about Stiles and she believes me."

"Why do we need to meet at the hospital?"

"I have a feeling something isn't right with Claudia Stilinski."

...

"You want what?" Melissa practically shrieked, causing Harper to hush her with a pointed look. She folded her arms across her chest and repeated quieter, "you want what?"

"Claudia's medical records," the strawberry blonde next to Harper repeated, "we know it's a lot to ask."

"Just for a minute," Harper added, hoping that could persuade the woman.

"It's up there with a lot to ask," Melissa huffed, "it's way up there."

Natalie sighed, "as the more recently enlightened of the two of us, just trust me. Our daughters are onto something and there are lives at stake."

Harper noticed what Natalie had labelled her, but she didn't care. In fact, a warm feeling spread throughout her chest at being called a 'daughter' to Melissa McCall. There's potentially nobody else Harper would rather have as her mother.

"Letting the three of you look at private medical records is completely and utterly against hospital regulations," Melissa muttered, watching as Harper and Lydia exchanged nervous glances. "So... We better make this fast."

Minutes later, Harper found herself in a dimmed room surrounded by folders upon folders of patients information. She stood next to Lydia and Lydia's mother stood behind Melissa who was clicking away at a computer, the light burning into her brown eyes.

Melissa scanned her medical record, sighing.

"Sorry, guys, according to her medical records, Claudia never had children," she disclaimed, watching as Harper's face fell.

Lydia placed a comforting hand on Harper's shoulder as the brunette leaned forward, scanning the screen more intensely. Sure enough, next to 'pregnancies' there was a big fat '0'. However, something else caught her eye.

"Okay, well right there it says she had Frontotemporal dementia. People with that usually only have five years left," Harper pointed at the information, although she wasn't sure how she knew that fact.

"There must be a mistake," Melissa shook her head.

"How long ago?" Natalie frowned, "she seems fine now."

"Ten years?" Melissa read, leaning back in amazement, "I'm surprised she's still alive, honestly. It's a miracle."

"It's all my fault, Harper," a voice sobbed, echoing in Harper's head, "she's gone and it's all my fault."

"Shh, Stiles," she heard herself whisper this time, her voice breaking, "Claudia isn't your fault-"

He yelled back, "if I'd never of been born this would have never happened!"

...

Harper was still a little shaken from the sounds of the memory that she had gained back, walking slowly down the hospital hall beside Lydia. The strawberry blonde kept a hand on the small of her back, her green eyes softening every time she glanced over at her.

"Is that Scott and Isaac?" Harper murmured as she glanced up, spotting two teenage boys.

Nodding, Lydia guided them over. "What happened?" She demanded.

Malia came jogging over, slightly breathless. "The Ghost Riders took everyone from the party. We barely slowed them down."

"They got Argent," Isaac jerked his head in the direction that Allison's father was being wheeled away in on a stretcher.

"Just please tell us you two found something," Scott pleaded, praying for at least one bit of good news today.

Lydia huffed, "we found out Claudia never had children. So, Stiles can't be her son."

Harper swallowed, shaking her head. "No, no, no. I heard his voice in my head," she blurted, causing someone passing by to stare at her strangely.

She did look a little out of it, to be honest.

"You heard Stiles?" Isaac frowned.

"I think he was her son," Harper breathed, rushing to explain as if time was running out. "I heard him tell me that she would have never died if he had never been born."

"Maybe it's like how the only reason we're together is because of Stiles no longer existing," Lydia's eyes widened in realisation. "If Stiles blames himself for the death of his mother, maybe Claudia's only alive right now because Stiles is gone."

Scott's eyes were trained on the floor as he took in everything Lydia was saying, slowly processing it in his head.

Isaac huffed, "this just all got a lot more confusing."

Malia shook her head, "well what about a relic? Did you find one?"

Harper said nothing but shook her head, the fast pace of the conversation quickly dying down to one of thick tension. Everybody glanced at each other and Harper knew exactly what they were thinking.

"Maybe there never was a Stiles," Isaac said, not missing the way Harper's eyes flashed with something unfamiliar. "You said it yourself, Harper. You're hearing voices. Nobody else is. Maybe you're just overthinking the whole Ghost Rider situation."

Malia nodded sadly, "yeah, what if the stress of senior year is getting to you and you're trying to come up with something- or in this case someone- to fill the void?"

Harper's lips were parted in shock, surprised on how quickly her friends had changed their minds. She realised that they must have been considering the fact that Stiles wasn't the real the whole time, however, for Harper there had never been a doubt in her mind that this boy wasn't real. She was the odd one out in this.

"You're calling me crazy?" Harper deadpanned.

"We're just saying," Scott sighed stressfully, "Stiles doesn't even sound like a real name."

She could feel the panic swirling in her chest, betrayal in her heart. The thought of going through this without her friends made her feel like she was drowning. Without her she stood no chance in bringing Stiles back.

"Stiles is real," Harper insisted, her tone holding venom as she glared at the three teenagers that had challenged her. "Stiles is real and every day I'm getting new memories back to do with him. Lydia and I are onto something here. We can't give up now."

"We're fighting the wrong battle," Malia cut her off, "the Ghost Riders came back. We still have no way of stopping them. And whatever they are, they're real. We can't keep chasing someone that isn't."

"Stiles is—"

"He didn't leave anything behind," Scott cut her off regretfully, watching Harper's eyes burn with hot tears but not release any.

"He left me behind," Harper snapped, her voice cracking, "he left me."


	7. Chapter 7

When Stiles snapped back to consciousness, he was overwhelmed to find himself inside a train station of all places.

Slowly, the Stilinski boy turned his head, glancing around him. He was sat on a wooden bench, with a doctor next to him that was staring straight ahead, unblinking.

The more he looked around, the quicker he realised that not a single person in the packed station was moving or talking. All of them looked like they were tired; their eyes trained ahead and their hands on their laps.

Just waiting.

He glanced down at the cold metal in his hand, lips parting at his keys tucked in his loose grip. Stiles shifted them about, gripped them tight for good luck and turned to the woman next to him.

"Excuse me?" Stiles whispered, surprised when she actually turned to look at him. "Sorry. Where are we?"

"We're at the train station," she replied obviously.

"Right. Okay. Helpful," Stiles muttered sarcastically, his voice still low in fear of disrupting all of the zombie-like humans surrounding him. "Which train station exactly?"

"Train station number 137."

Stiles sunk in his seat, "did you see me come in?"

"No."

"How long have you been here?"

"Maybe an hour," the Asian woman shrugged without thought.

An older man sat on the other side of her spoke up, his face tucked into a newspaper. "We got here at the same time. It's been at least six hours."

"Six hours?" Stiles repeated in disbelief, "where are you going?"

He watched as the doctor and the old man both froze, about to reply before realising that they had no idea. The strangers both glanced at each other wearily, filling Stiles with a sense of dread. 

"I- uh," she began to shuffle through her white lab coat, "I had a ticket with me somewhere."

"You always travel in your work clothes?" Stiles questioned suspiciously.

"I must have been in a rush."

Stiles glanced at the ticket desk and quickly stood, making his way over. Nobody sat behind it. A sign was slapped on the glass window reading 'be back in five minutes', however, upon inspecting the inch of dust covering the wooden surface of the desk, Stiles realised that nobody had been there in months, let alone five minutes.

"Do you know if anyone works here?" He turned around, his voice shaking.

A speaker crackled above his head before a monotone voice called, "the following stops have been cancelled: Hollatine, Baten, Bay Burry, Deer Ridge, Red Oak..."

Stiles watched in confusion as everybody finally began to move, shuffling from their seats and standing up.

"Excuse me, where are all these trains going?" He tried to ask a man walking by, but they ignored him.

The teenage boy could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched everybody crowd around an arch that lead into darkness.

He asked as many people as he could where the train was going, however, either the person would shoot him a blank look or not even glance in his direction.

It was like he didn't even exist.

Stiles watched from the back of the crowd of zombies as wind began to blast from the tunnel, blowing his hair and plaid shirt back slightly. The sound of horses neighing ran in his ears like an awful nightmare, making him stumble back a little. As the horses approached with the Ghost Riders on their backs, everybody began to scream.

It was like they had finally remembered they had emotions, every single person shrieking as they fled away from the beastly animals and demon-like figures. People shoved past Stiles who was fixated on them, his hazel eyes wide. They ducked for cover by the benches.

As soon as a horse whipped one of the men standing nearby, Stiles began to back away, flinching. He watched curiously as one of the Ghost Riders dropped a body to the ground. A middle-aged man laid on the floor squirming in restraints, however, the ropes around his wrists and ankles soon disappeared into a green mist.

Just as a Ghost Rider grew particularly close to Stiles, a pair of hands grabbed him, slamming the teenage boy against a pillar. Stiles gasped, his eyes flickering to whoever had possibly just saved his life.

Peter Hale.

"It had to be you," the werewolf grumbled.

Only when the Ghost Riders left did the crowd settle down again, but Stiles was still in shock over finding out that Peter Hale had also been taken by the Ghost Riders.

Part of him was relieved that he had somebody he knew here, but the bigger part of him hated that it had to be the man that had tried to kill him and his friends on multiple occasions.

"Peter?" Stiles watched as the man began to walk away, heading over to a bench. "Peter, what the hell are you doing here? How are you here?"

"What do you mean how am I here?" Peter retorted, "I'm here. You are here. We all are here. Now get the hell away from me, Stiles."

He sat down on a bench by himself. Stiles looked around, almost disgusted to see that everyone was back to how he had found them- staring lifelessly at whatever was in front of them. Even the man that the Ghost Riders had just dropped off was brushing his suit down before taking a seat.

"Hey, Peter!" Stiles snapped his fingers to get the werewolf's attention, "what are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for my train," Peter spoke as if it was obvious.

"Okay, did you not just see that?" Stiles questioned incredulously, gesturing to where the Ghost Riders had entered and then left from.

"See what?"

Stiles swallowed, raising his eyebrows. "The horses? The hogtied businessmen with the magically dissolving ropes?" He turned around and yelled so his voice echoed off the walls, "I'm sorry, did anyone just see that?"

People stared at him but didn't say a word.

"Do you mind?" Peter scoffed, "you're blocking the board. I'd like a little warning before my train arrives."

"Okay. So you're waiting for a train. How did you get here?"

Peter smirked, "pretty sure I took a cab."

"Last time I saw you, you were being locked away in Eichen House," Stiles reminded him harshly, noticing the flash of remembrance that passed Peter's blue eyes.

The older werewolf remained silent for a moment, his lips parting as he recalled what had happened the night he was emitted in the same room as Gabriel Valack.

"I was in Eichen," he whispered, "thanks to you."

"Memory's good," Stiles muttered, "can you remember how you got out? They discharge you?"

Peter shook his head, "no, the power went out and I ran like hell."

"That's it?" Stiles' face screwed up. "You just ran?"

"Yes, that's it," the man deadpanned, "I literally just ran away from the insane asylum that was holding me hostage!"

It seemed that Peter was remembering whatever had happened that night since he totally zoned out, a blank stare on his face. Stiles huffed, taking a seat on the bench and clasping his hands together while he waited for Peter to finish.

About ten minutes later, the werewolf stood abruptly. "How long have I been here?"

Stiles shrugged, "the lockdown was three months ago."

"I've been missing for three months and no one came for me?" Peter scoffed, offended.

Stiles' heart tugged in his chest as he replied, "that's what the Ghost Riders do. They erase you."

"Ghost Riders?" The blue-eyed man repeated, "Ghost Riders of the Wild Hunt?"

The Stilinski boy glanced up at him with wide eyes, a hopeful feeling passing through for a split second. "Yeah. You know what I'm talking about?"

Peter sighed, sitting down on the bench opposite Stiles so that they were facing each other.

"Of course I know what you're talking about," the ex-alpha muttered bitterly, "they ride the lightning. They are an unstoppable force of nature, but I promise you, they don't make pit stops at train stations. I've escaped one prison only to land in another one. I mean, this looks like the underground lair of a depressed bureaucrat."

"Come on, there's gotta be a way out of this place, right?" Stiles slapped his own thigh eagerly, "have you tried looking around? Have you talked to anyone who knows anything?"

"If this is the Wild Hunt then there is no escape. You and I are doomed to ride the storm forever."

Stiles stood up, "yeah, we're not in the storm, we're in a train station. We can get out of a train station."

Peter growled, "we can't get out of here, Stiles, because this place isn't real."

"What are you talking about?"

"Beacon Hills doesn't have a train station."

Stiles refused to believe that he was stuck here for the rest of his life, never to return to Beacon Hills- his home- again. Peter watched with an annoyed expression as the Stilinski boy ran at the doors, tugging on them as hard as he possibly could. The chains around them meant that the oak refused to budge.

"What are you doing?" The forty-something-year-old man huffed.

"A little help, please?" Stiles spat back, gesturing to the door he was working on.

Shrugging, Peter realised that he had literally nothing left to lose and stood up, ripping the metal chains off. Stiles shot him a sarcastic look before bounding through the doors, stumbling in shock as came out the doors on the other side of the station. Peter whirled around in shock, blinking when he saw Stiles was now behind him.

"What the hell?" The hazel-eyed boy breathed, looking around.

He went back through the doors, panting as he came re-entered the very same train station through another set.

Refusing to give up, he began to run back towards the door, ready to try again when Peter whispered, 'no, no, keep going."

Stiles paused, "I don't see you coming up with anything!"

"No, no. Stiles. Left shoulder, against the pillar," he whispered, "don't look. I said don't look! He's watching us."

Stiles glanced around, ignoring the ex-alpha. Sure enough, a boy around Stiles' age stood there, leaning against the pillar with his arms folded against his chest. He wore a smug expression as he watched them.

"So?" Stiles whispered.

"So?" Peter repeated, "every person in this station is either comatose or catatonic. He seems very interested in keeping an eye on us."

Realising that Peter was right, Stiles' brows furrowed together slightly and he began to approach the boy with quick, confident strides. Upon seeing Stiles coming towards him, the boy awkwardly began to shift around the side of the pillar in a lame attempt to hide.

"Hey," Stiles hissed, moving around the other side.

The boy was about to run when he collided with a very stern looking Peter. Instead, he froze up, gulping as the werewolf even made Stiles jump. He stood next to Peter, straightening himself up like an attempt to seem just as intimidating. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work.

"Why are you watching us?" Peter demanded.

He began to chuckle, "you tried the doors. Nobody ever tries the doors."

"Sounds like you have," Stiles replied defensively, his hands on his hips.

"The ones I can open," the boy nodded, "I've tried everything else."

"Not everything," Peter corrected, unintentionally making some spark of hope ignite in Stiles' heart, "you're still here."

Stiles added, "yeah, and it seems like you've got some kind of plan so why don't you tell us about it?"

The boy who looked sleep deprived and stressed nodded slowly, pursing his lips. He looked like pretty much everybody else here: lost and afraid.

"I can tell you," he confirmed, "doesn't mean you can do it."

Stiles began to chuckle dryly at the irony, turning to look at Peter who was staring back at the Stilinski boy with an amused expression. All Stiles could think about was how much he and his friends had been through in the past couple of years. This would be nothing compared to Dread Doctors and Alpha packs. Nothing.

"Oh," he shook his head, smiling in amusement, "we can- we can do it. He can- he can do it."

The boy didn't seem phased by their reactions. Clearly, he didn't believe them.

"Well it's right in front of your face," he said, nodding his head in the direction that the Ghost Riders had left in, "you didn't see it, did you?"

Stiles' hope slithered away. "I saw it," he mumbled.

"Then why did you waste so much time running through the doors?" For the first time, the boy began to raise his voice. "I'll tell you why. It's because it's all part of the illusion. You're afraid, and they want you to be afraid."

Peter seemed furious at the accusation that had been thrown in their direction, although Stiles glanced to the floor, knowing with his whole heart that it was true.

"I'm not afraid," the werewolf growled, walking confidently over to the arch.

Stiles and the boy followed him, standing behind and watching as Peter paused. All there was to be seen past the arch was part of a concrete hallway and then violent darkness. The boy scoffed a little.

"You can't do it, can you?"

Peter didn't turn around as he spat bitterly, "we really should kill him."

That made the boy's grin falter.

"Or you can just walk through it," Stiles suggested, Peter mumbling something in return. "What did you say?"

"Push me!" He repeated louder, his voice containing nothing but resentment for the situation he had found himself in.

Peter breathed heavily as Stiles placed his hands on the ex-alpha's shoulders, giving them a small squeeze before he shoved him into the hallway. Much to Peter's relief, nothing happened, allowing him to relax slightly.

"Now you're getting it," the boy spoke up.

"Stiles, let's go," Peter grabbed the plaid shirt of the teenager and pulled him into the hallway, ignoring his exaggerated grunt.

...

Meanwhile, back in Beacon Hills, Harper sat at her seat in AP Biology, her chin rested on her palm while she watched Mrs Finch talk. A colourful diagram of the human brain was sketched in chalk behind the woman, different parts labelled with block lettering. Lydia sat next to her, twirling her strawberry blonde hair in her fingers.

"The corpus callosum is not only the largest white matter structure in the brain but also the bridge connecting all parts of the brain to each other," Mrs Finch droned on. "That ability..."

Her voice drowned out as Harper's eyes cast to something outside the window. In the car park, standing by one of the most battered blue jeeps Harper had ever seen, was a man with a clipboard, inspecting it.

"I need to park it at the back," she heard a voice chuckle in her head, "I can't have anyone scratching Roscoe."

That voice was Stiles'. She'd become familiar to it by now, what with the amount of times she had heard it in her head.

The sudden realisation that this jeep must be his relic made her heart lurch in her chest and her body immediately grow warm. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she slammed her textbook shut, making Lydia flinch from next to her.

"Ms Verum, are you-" Mrs Finch began, only to get cut off.

"I need to go," she glanced back out of the window as she threw her bag over her shoulder, seeing the blue car about to get lifted onto a tow truck. "Probably won't be back."

"This class isn't optional, Ms Verum!" She heard Mrs Finch call, however she was already too far gone, jogging down the hallway to get to the carpark.

Harper's heart pounded in her chest, excitement making her brain go slightly fuzzy. She raced outside, immediately feeling the Californian sun warm her shoulders. The summer dress she wore bounced just above her knees as she ran over to the man about to take the jeep away.

"Pardon me!" She called, cringing at how 'posh' it had come across, "um, sir, sorry, but you can't take this jeep."

The man, who looked to be in his late forties, raised his eyebrows at her, leanining his elbow against the window. He lifted up his clipboard, staring down at the teenage girl.

"Paperwork says I can," he shrugged, "it's reported as abandoned."

"It's not," Harper spoke quickly, placing her hand on the metal baking in the sun.

The warmth that shot up her arm came not only from the thermal energy but the Empathic energy her supernatural side held. This jeep was a part of Stiles- she could feel it. Happiness and excitement radiated off of it, but also sadness and confusion and anger.

"This is your vehicle?" He looked her up and down in disbelief.

Harper hesitated, "does it have to be?"

He laughed mockingly, "I'll take that as a no."

Footsteps suddenly came pounding over, Scott messily clambering to stand next to Harper. His hands smacked onto the hood, short pants coming from past his full lips. He sent the man an apologetic, pursed-lipped smile.

"This is my Jeep," he lied, "thank you. I'll move it. Once I get the keys... From my locker! After you leave."

"I'm sorry," the man replied half-heartedly, "once it's on the hook, you're on the hook."

Scott panicked, "okay, well, there's gotta be something that we can do. Sign something? Call someone?"

"Pay someone?" Harper exhaled loudly, annoyed.

The man finally beamed, "drop fee's a hundred and fifty. Cash."

Harper immediately began to dig through her bag to see what she had left, ignoring Scott who began to complain beside her, stating that the jeep wasn't even worth a hundred and fifty dollars. She found the ten dollar bill tucked away in one of the compartments and winced.

She handed it out to him, making him raise his brows in confusion. "I said a hundred and fifty. Not ten."

"You'll let us take the jeep, for free," Harper commanded.

"Nice try, sweetheart," he muttered, grabbing the cash that Scott had reluctantly started to hold out and began to get to work starting to take the jeep off of the hook. Scott grabbed her arm, turning her to face him.

"You do realise that I don't actually have the keys to this thing, right?"

Feigning surprise, Harper held a hand to her mouth. "No way, Scott! Are you serious? I didn't know you didn't own the jeep."

"I'm not appreciating your sarcasm right now," the alpha grumbled, "and why do you need the jeep anyway?"

Harper stared at the car, her heart skipping a beat as an unfamiliar feeling washed over her like a tidal wave. Her lips parted, about to speak when a small smile overtook her features. She gently put her hand down on the window.

"I think this might be our relic, Scott."

...

"Congratulations, you just found another part of the phantom train station," Peter muttered sarcastically from where he followed behind Stiles and the mysterious boy.

They'd followed the train tracks into a more open space. Above the track level was an empty platform, containing only a wooden bench and a concrete pillar. It was still dark, causing Stiles to strain his eyes.

He ignored Peter's pessimism. "Is this the way out?"

"If it was, we would be leaving," Peter insisted. Either he didn't know that his commentary was unwanted, or he didn't care. Stiles guessed that it was the latter of the two, knowing the ex-alpha.

The boy paused. "You might want to stay off the tracks cause that's the way in and out."

He pointed to the mist about twenty feet ahead of them. It blocked the end of the tunnel, swirling hauntedly. Stiles pursed his lips as he looked at the unknown, a hot flash spreading throughout his body once he heard a clap of thunder followed by horses neighing.

"They're coming," the boy froze, his eyes wide.

It took him a second before he snapped into action, running to the platform and climbing up frantically. The two Beacon Hills residents didn't hesitate to follow behind the boy who clearly knew much more than them, ducking behind the pillar but poking their heads out to watch.

Out of the mist jumped a Ghost Rider on its black horse, the atmosphere around it seemingly tearing and floating away as green gas. Two more followed straight behind, the hooves of the beasts smacking against the train tracks as they dashed forward towards the waiting area.

The three males all jumped back, hiding away until they had passed. Once it was empty, Stiles and Peter both whirled back around to face the dark-haired boy, incredulous looks on their faces.

Peter pointed to the mist, "that's the way out?" He breathed in disbelief, watching as the boy confirmed with a gulp. "How in the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"We jump."

"Jump?" The blue-eyed-man repeated.

"On the back of the Riders as they go through," he insisted, "I've been timing it. Look, we can jump from here just before they go out."

"I think you're confusing your pronouns," Peter quipped, "we aren't going to do anything, but you should absolutely give that a shot."

"Do you not want to get out of here?"

Stiles scoffed, "we want to get out alive, okay? How do you know this works? Seems like a lot could go wrong."

The boy shook his head, "look, I can't stay here. I'm losing my mind in this place."

"I think you have an excellent grasp of the situation. I say go for it," the werewolf shrugged.

"Hey, they're coming back!" The boy gasped eagerly upon hearing the sounds of the horses once again.

Stiles watched helplessly as the boy moved behind a pillar, waiting for their arrival. Peter moved to the over, ducking behind it with the intentions of staying there. He hesitated for a second before rushing to the werewolf's side, grabbing his arm.

"We can't let him do this, right?" The Stilinski boy panicked, but Peter didn't reply with anything helpful, so Stiles turned to the boy. "Hey, we'll figure something else out. Look, there's gotta be another way out of this place!"

"But there isn't!" He called back, "I've been looking for months. Now, are you coming or not?"

The Ghost Riders came riding down the train track, Stiles and Peter shrinking back in response. Stiles moved towards the boy to attempt to stop him, but Peter grabbed Stiles and held him back, insisting that he let him try. They watched helplessly as the desperate teenager jumped onto the back of the last horse, grabbing onto the Ghost Rider for dear life.

"Come on, come on," Peter muttered under his breath, both their hearts pounding out of their chests as they observed.

The last horse went through, however, the invisible wall keeping them in made the boy bounce back, landing on the train tracks with a loud thump. Stiles' eyes were wide as he watched him scream and wither in pain, holding his body as it slowly disintegrated, leaving not even ashes behind.

He was gone.

"Somehow I don't think that went the way he was hoping," Peter remarked, keeping a blank face while the hazel-eyed boy dashed to where he had been. "Stiles, he's dead. You see his face? Trust me, he's gone."

Stiles paused from where he stood in the middle of the tracks, staring in the direction that the Ghost Riders had left in. He didn't turn around as he replied.

"You knew he would die."

"I didn't know," Peter disclaimed, not an ounce of guilt in his tone. "I mean, I assumed."

Stiles whirled around, feeling angry at the man stood up on the platform. "Yeah, well you could have warned him!"

"He was going to do it anyway," Peter justified his reasoning. "Now we know that we're stuck," he jumped down onto the tracks, walking towards him. "It's over. We are trapped because that was our only way out."

Stiles swallowed, "or that's just what they want us to believe," he hoped.

"What?" Peter breathed, chuckling dryly, "what is it with you teenagers? You think that you are so special. You think that the rules don't apply to you? Do you get it?" He began to yell, "we are dead and buried!"

Tears stung Stiles' hazel eyes, the realisation that he was right truly sinking in for the first time. He stared at the man in front of him, feeling his hands start to tremble and his heart begin to race faster. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, knowing he was just as good as dead.

Peter reached forward and snatched Stiles' wallet out of his pocket, starting to pull everything out and throw it across the floor.

Stiles' eye caught sight of the polaroid tucked inside his wallet and he felt his chest ignite with rage.

"Stop it-"

"Huh, money," Peter snapped, "it's worthless. Driver's license? Credit cards-"

He threw all of Stiles' belongings to the ground as if he hated the boy.

"Give me my damn wallet back," Stiles yelled, moving to grab it, only for Peter to throw his keys backwards.

"It's all meaningless," Peter shrugged, his eyes also landing on the polaroid tucked away.

Stiles' heart clenched painfully as he watched Peter's movements slow. The werewolf's slender fingers reached between the plastic and the wallet material and he plucked out the picture of Stiles Stilinski and Harper Verum that had been taken a couple of years back, around the time they had started dating.

Inside the Polaroid was a buzzcut Stiles with a curly-haired Harper, her head rested on his arm and their hand clasped in front of them as they beamed at the camera. Scott had been the one to take the picture, as requested by Harper who wanted to capture the moment the three of them went out for ice cream like old times.

Peter's blue eyes scanned the happy teenage couple. Stiles was so in shock that he didn't say a word, watching as suddenly the werewolf's face scrunched up, his eyes hardening.

"Meaningless," he spat with more emphasis, throwing the Polaroid right by their feet.

Tears burned as Stiles clenched his fist, his throat tight. He wanted to swoop down and retrieve the mistreated photograph as quickly as it had been thrown there, but he maintained the threatening eye contact Peter was sharing with him, refusing to back down.

"Take that back," he demanded, his voice slightly wobbly.

"What? Do you think she remembers you?" Peter spat, " is that what you thought? Do you get it? We don't exist! Harper doesn't give a fuck about you anymore! Whatever little teen romance the two of you had? It's finished! Cause we're already forgotten."

Stiles blinked, trying not to believe it. A lone tear fell from his eye, others threatening to follow.

She'd remember. She promised she would.

"Somebody's going to remember me," Stiles denied, his voice dangerously quiet. "Either Scott, Malia, Lydia, Isaac... Harper definitely will. Harper's going to remember me. They'll come for me. But who would ever come for you?"

He watched as Peter's face hardened. Stiles felt his heart breaking as he mentioned his friends that he was missing so dearly, in particular, the girl he had mentioned last. She had promised him, and he believed her. After all, they were in love- that had to mean something.

"You give me a call when your high school sweetheart conjures up a plan to get out of here," and with that, Peter walked away, leaving Stiles all alone.

Again.

Stiles scooped up the Polaroid as soon as Peter's figure had disappeared, immediately swiping away any dirt that had managed to get on it. He released a small, dry sob as he stared at their happy faces and then held the picture to his heart.

Harper would save him.


	8. Chapter 8

Harper didn't leave the jeep.

The amount of emotion it was giving off made it difficult for her to go back to class as Scott had done a couple of hours ago. Instead, she sat against it, her head resting on the baby blue metal while she did some of her homework.

Footsteps smacked against the floor as some people rushed over. Harper peered up at them, not surprised to see that it was Malia, Isaac, Lydia and Scott. She wore a confused expression as she stood up from the ground, dusting off the back of her mustard yellow sundress.

"What's going on?" She asked.

"There's a high pitched sound," Isaac announced, watching as the Empath only frowned deeper. "And it's coming from in that jeep."

Malia and Scott moved around to the door, peering inside at the radio that was releasing awful static noises sensitive to their ears. Harper bit down on her lip, watching as the werecoyote and the alpha exchanged glances.

"Did somebody just leave the keys inside?" Malia questioned as she tried to open the door only to realise that it was locked.

Lydia sighed, "break it."

Scott obeyed, holding onto the handle and pushing it down in one swift motion. Something inside snapped, allowing the door to be pulled open. Harper tried to get a close look at what was inside, the radio noise now filling her own ears.

Her heart practically leapt out of her chest when she heard Stiles' voice in her ears, "you're going to forget about me."

Harper squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Every time she heard his voice now it was like gaining a piece of home back, butterflies in her stomach fluttering without warning. She didn't hesitate to squeeze past her friends and into the passenger seat, looking around at anything left out. It was relatively tidy.

Scott, Isaac and Lydia climbed into the back while Malia sat in the driver's seat, holding the wheel and looking out front. Scott looked around in the back seats while Harper opened up the glove compartment and started to shuffle around.

Inside were old receipts, a cleaning rag and a couple of CDs. Nothing important. She fiddled through some of the papers, her fingertips brushing soft material. She pulled it out, revealing a mustard yellow scrunchie. Harper curled the hairband in her hand, frowning softly.

"Okay, let's just go around the parking lot, yeah?" Harper heard that familiar voice in her head once again and suddenly she was whisked away from all of her friends and sat in the front of the jeep.

The vehicle was empty, but Stiles' voice rang out as if he was sat in the seat beside Harper.

"When we go out onto the road, remember, we're gonna take a right turn. So, what does that mean?" Stiles' voice was gentle and soft, almost like he was teaching a toddler how to write their own name.

Harper huffed and rolled her eyes in amusement. "Sti, I know. I have to look left and right and then left again."

"Good!" The teenage boy encouraged and Harper felt a small pressure on her thigh like he had given it a squeeze. "Another thing to remember is we drive on the right side of the road here, not the left-"

"Stiles!" Harper laughed, and her hand whipped out to playfully smack the air beside her as if he was sat in the seat. "I know what side to drive on. I've lived here for, like, eight years now."

"I know, babe," he murmured, and the Empath could sense his smile. "I just don't want you to forget- like what if your brain suddenly shifts and you think you're driving in-"

"For a smart guy, you're a bit of dumbass, Stiles."

"That's why you love me," Stiles snickered, "now, gear up. Seatbelts on. I love you too much to let you fly through the windshield when you eventually crash this thing."

"Hey!"

"Harps?" Malia shook her arm, "what's up?"

Harper's gaze on the scrunchie in her hands softened and she glanced up at the werecoyote, offering a shrug. "Found this."

"A scrunchie?"

"It's cute," Lydia leaned forward and clasped it from Harper's hand, holding it to the brunette's face. "Even cuter with your dark hair and eyes and tan skin. Same colour as your dress too."

Harper took it from Lydia's hands, "I feel like you've said that to me before..."

"You found it in the jeep?" Isaac asked, causing Harper to nod.

The radio suddenly cut out from in between herself and Malia. Everybody paused what they were doing, staring at it in concern.

"Um," Isaac frowned, "why'd it stop?"

Harper didn't reply but kept on pressing down on the 'master switch', trying to get it to start up again. For some reason, she felt like it was making static noises for a bigger purpose. Something was going to happen; the Empath could feel it in her bones.

A sniff came from behind her, making her turn. Scott had his eyes closed, his nose slightly in the air as he tried to lock on to whatever he was smelling.

"You got a scent?" Lydia asked hopefully.

"Yeah," the werewolf mumbled, confused, "ours. Mine, Harper's, all five of ours."

Malia scoffed, "mine? I've never been in this jeep before."

"Neither have I," Scott and Isaac both said at the same time, causing them both to glance at each other.

Harper groaned, "yes, we have. We just can't remember because the Ghost Riders swiped all of our memories. Scott can smell us and I can feel our emotions; I know that we've been here before. Scott, I think you and I have been in this jeep hundreds of times. I learnt how to drive in this bloody thing!"

"I thought we were done with that," the werecoyote sent her a look, unintentionally sparking anger in Harper.

Scott nodded, "yeah, Harps, Parrish checked the VIN number. There's no record of an owner."

"Because that's what they do!" Harper exclaimed, clenching her fists on her lap as she glared between the both of them, "they swipe everything. This is Stiles' jeep! Stiles'! The boy that would never give up searching for one of us!"

"How do you know that?" Isaac retorted, "you don't even remember him."

Harper was breathing heavier than usual and despite being an Empath, she was unable to dictate whether it was out of anger or panic. All she knew was that this jeep was becoming too small for the five of them and she knew exactly which three she would happily toss out right about now.

Noticing her off-behaviour, Lydia placed a hand on Harper's shoulder.

"Guys, Harper's right," the strawberry blonde spoke calmly, "all these people that I've been seeing have to mean something. And the jeep didn't just drive itself here!"

Scott's face seemed to soften at the last statement, realising that Lydia was correct. Whether somebody had owned it or not, it didn't just appear out of thin air. Malia caught his look and glared.

"Who's side are you on?" She complained.

Scott's gaze flickered from Isaac and Malia to Harper and Lydia. "I'm on everyone's side."

The werecoyote sighed, looking straight into Harper's eyes as she told her with utter confidence, "he's not real. Trust me. Look, I've lost a lot of people. I don't feel like adding to that list.'

Harper ignored her, feeling like if she looked any longer at Malia then she might end up hitting her. She couldn't help it. All of these emotions that she was experiencing without reasoning had been crushing her for the past week or so, and now everybody was suddenly turning on her, saying Stiles wasn't real.

He had to be real.

He had to.

She began to search through the glove compartment deeper, pulling out the receipts. She found a certificate in the back and pulled it out eagerly, handing it to Scott.

"This is from '96. It has no name," he spoke as he read from it.

"But there's an address," Isaac pointed, "'129 Woodbine Lane'."

Harper bit down on her bottom lip, a small grin covering her face as she remembered who lived there. Everything was starting to come together. They'd found their relic and now they knew who Stiles' parents were- or at least Harper did.

"We know that address," Lydia sent a look towards Harper.

...

It was a bit awkward for the Verum girl as she sat down on the couch opposite Claudia Stilinski, but she tried to ignore the slight tension and focused on the issue at hand. The woman read the certificate that the teenager had handed her, shaking her head.

"I don't know what to tell you," Claudia sent her an apologetic smile, "I haven't seen that jeep in almost..." She looked to her husband sat beside her for confirmation. "Almost eighteen years?"

Noah nodded alongside her, but Harper exhaled quietly, her shoulders sagging as she played with the end of her summer dress.

"But it's in your name," Harper declared.

"But it was stolen," Claudia replied softly, her tone showing no resentment towards the teenage girl that had caused a slight rip in her wallpaper only a couple of days ago.

She bit her bottom lip, "so how did it end up at the high school?"

Both adults opened their mouths to reply, hesitating. "Beats the hell out of me," Sheriff Stilinski shrugged, holding his hands up. "I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who'd want it now."

"Maybe somebody dumped it there?" Claudia guessed.

"Okay..." Harper thought for a few seconds. "I'm guessing there's no way that you can trace the jeep back to after it was stolen?" She watched as Noah confirmed her suspicions with a nod. "Okay, but what if you checked it for fingerprints? Found out who stole it?"

Sensing the edge in her tone, Noah cut her off, "Harper, is this about Stiles?"

Harper's eyes began to fill with tears, a sense of helplessness flooding her system. It was obvious to her that the husband and wife didn't even want to consider the fact that they could have a missing son. They were just two more people that didn't believe in Stiles.

"Honey, don't you think you've taken this far enough?" Claudia asked, handing her back the certificate with the jeep's information on. "I don't really know what's going on with you lately, but maybe it's a good time for you to talk with the guidance counsellor at your school."

A single tear fell from her eyes, landing on her cheek and grazing down painfully slow. Noah watched, his face softening at the sight of her upset. He felt the need to hug her, although he didn't know why.

"Are you okay?" He asked although he knew the answer.

Harper's hand quickly flew towards her face where she wiped the tear away, nodding hastily. She stood up from the couch, her grip on the paper tight.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," she lied, making Claudia shoot her a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry for all the stuff I've been putting on you two lately, and for the wallpaper. Um, I can pay you, I just- I just-"

Seeing that she was about to breakdown, Claudia stood from her seat and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Harper," she murmured, "go to the bathroom and calm down, okay? I'll make you some tea."

Harper nodded quickly and left the room, the tears starting to stream freely. She didn't bother to wipe them this time, her heart thumping in her chest as she marched down the hallway to the bathroom.

"Don't go yet," A voice laughed breezily, making her freeze in her spot.

The brunette froze, turning back to the wall that she had started ripping into days ago. Warmth radiated from it, hitting her like a tidal wave and practically dragging her under. Joyous laughs bounced off of the walls, murmurs of compliments brushing her ears.

She made her way over to the wall, her trembling hand moving to smoothe out the tear. A sob escaped her lips. It felt like he was so close yet so far away, and she didn't even know who he really was.

With hot, salty tears strolling down her cheeks and laboured breaths escaping her parted lips, Harper slid down the wall, her back to it as she cried. She leaned her head back against it, holding the paper in her hands close to her chest like it was one of the only things she had left of Stiles.

She wanted him back.

Meanwhile, Stiles was thinking of a certain brown-eyed girl he had fallen in love with, tears slipping down his cheeks.

...

After receiving an urgent text from Scott to get to the school carpark, she found the werewolf stood with the same man from earlier- the one that wanted to take the jeep away. Climbing out of her car, Harper jogged over, grabbing her bag from over her shoulder.

"Listen, how much do you want?" She questioned, "I'll pay."

"It's not about how much, they want it out of here, okay? It's not up to me," the man disclaimed, shaking his head.

Before Harper could try and manipulate him again, the man began to head towards the jeep. Scott took a step forward, glaring up at the much larger man. Harper raised her eyebrows, having an idea about what was about to go down.

"Don't make me move you kid," he threatened, "I'm hooking this thing up and I am towing it away."

Scott clenched his fist, but he needn't do anything else because a snap came from behind them, followed by the rattle of thick chains. The man turned around, surprised to find Malia stood there just having disconnected the jeep and his tow truck. She handed him back one end.

"Your truck's broke."

Harper sent the girl a soft smile, watching as the man began to grumble something under his breath before packing up his stuff and leaving. She walked over, taking one of Malia's hands.

"Are you starting to believe in him?" She asked hopefully.

"I don't know," Malia stated in annoyance, her shoulder suddenly sagging in defeat as she rubbed her thumb over the back of Harper's hand. "But I do believe you."

Harper pursed her lips but sent her a thankful nod, knowing was that was all Harper needed right now; support from her friends. Before any more words could be exchanged, a mighty roar ripped through the air, making Harper jolt in shock.

Malia's brows furrowed together, tilting her head to the sky as Scott rushed over, "did you guys hear that?"

"I think all of Beacon Hills heard that," Harper scoffed.

"Who was it?" Scott asked.

"I'm not sure," Malia breathed, "but I think I recognise it."

"Go!" Harper insisted, watching as they obeyed and took off in the direction that the howl had emitted from.

...

About an hour later, Harper was sat inside the jeep next to Lydia when Scott came bounding over, keys dangling in his hands. He pushed them into the Empath's hands just as Isaac appeared behind him, panting.

"Peter had them," he told the two girls, recalling the ex-alpha that he had found burned up on the forest floor, keys in his hands.

He was in such a bad condition that he couldn't even talk, only grunt. Scott, Malia and Isaac- who had heard the howl and gotten to him first- took some pain from him, but it didn't look like he would be healing any time soon. He was barely recognisable, his clothes stuck to his skin.

Lydia raised her brows, "who the hell is Peter?"

"The guy that bit all of you," Isaac shrugged, pointing between Harper, Lydia and Scott.

That didn't spark any memories inside Harper's brain, but she shifted the keys in her hands anyway. The cold metal tickled her palm, a key, in particular, sticking out like a sore thumb. She brushed her finger over the end that was painted yellow. Her favourite colour back in sophomore year.

"This is my old house key," she lifted up her own set from the pocket of her denim jacket where she still had the object.

Sure enough, they were identical.

"Those aren't yours though, right?" Scott frowned, "we thought it could mean something. Like, it could fit into the jeep or something."

Harper found the car key on the chain, hesitating to put it into the ignition. She was honestly terrified of it not fitting and then she would be a mess of disappointment. Scott, Lydia and Isaac watched silently as she placed the key inside and turned it, the engine sputtering.

Biting down on her lip, she tried again- and again.

"Don't flood it," Scott warned.

She listened to him, taking a deep breath before she twisted the key once more. The whole car suddenly came to life, the headlights automatically switching on and lighting up the darkness. Everybody began to chuckle in amazement, Scott and Harper exchanging a hopeful look.

Lydia climbed out of the car, letting Scott take her place. She saw how excited the two best friends were and realised that she should probably give them a moment. Stiles clearly meant the most to the two of them. Or at least more to them then he did to Isaac and her.

The police radio suddenly began to make static noises again, splitting through Scott's ears like a whistle. Harper jumped, watching as the lights began to flash. The werewolf moved forward to switch it off when-

"Hello?"

It came out small and soft, barely noticeable. But Harper knew it. That was the same voice that had been invading her mind for days now, the one that she longed to hear every night before she fell asleep. She grabbed Scott's wrist, stopping him from turning it off.

"Hello?" Came his voice again, a little shaky. "Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

Harper was frozen for a moment, her brown eyes growing glassy as she and Scott stared at each other, lips parted in amazement. She reached down, grabbing the walkie talkie attached to the radio. She lifted it to her lips, her heart fluttering in her chest as she pressed down.

"S-Stiles?" The brunette stammered, feeling a lump in her throat as she anxiously waited for his reply.

Scott leaned forward eagerly, "Stiles are you there?"

"Harper?" Stiles exclaimed on the other end, sounding close to tears, "Scott? Is that you two?"

"Stiles!" Harper cried out loud, feeling utter relief and excitement crash into her. "Stiles, we can hear you."

"Oh my god, you know me? You remember me?" Stiles whispered.

Harper didn't reply to his question, knowing that saying yes wouldn't be the whole truth and saying no would be the same. Of course, she knew he was missing and she knew she had feelings for him stronger than anything else, but she had no idea who Stiles really was.

"Is this really you?" She choked instead, "is this really Stiles?"

"Yeah, it's me, Harps," he replied almost reassuringly like he wanted to comfort her, despite the fact that he was the one that had been taken. "Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"

The night he had been taken came flashing back to her like nothing she had ever experienced before- like a movie being put on rewind. Her eyes were wide, a small grin on her face as she remembered what he had said.

"You asked..." She began, looking awkwardly at her friends who were all watching her eagerly, "you told me how you had the rest of our life planned out. And then you asked me- you asked me if I wanted that with you."

On the other end, Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief, tears sticking to his long lashes before falling down his cheeks. He sat on the cold floor with the walkie talkie in his hand, his hands shaking as he spoke to the girl that he loved and missed with everything he had inside of him.

"Are you okay?" Scott cut in.

Harper's grin faltered, "where are you, Stiles?"

"We're coming to get you," the alpha added.

"No, no, no. You can't," Stiles replied quickly on the other end, "you won't be able to find me."

Scott placed his hands over Harper's that were wrapped around the walkie talkie, pressing her hands down so that he could speak.

"Stiles, w-what are you talking about?" He stammered, raising his voice, "just tell us where you are, and we'll- we'll come and-"

"Just remember this," Stiles cut them off and Harper shook her head, realising that their conversation was coming to an end, "Canaan, okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan."

This was how their last conversation had ended. With him telling her to remember something.

"Stiles-"

The radio static began to fill their ears again, making Harper's mouth gape open, her breaths growing heavy. Her eyes hurt from crying so much but she knew that she wasn't going to be stopping anytime soon either.

"Stiles!" Scott cried, begging for him to come back, "Stiles?"

The walkie talkie dropped from her hand to her lap, her chest heaving as Scott grabbed her, pulling her into his chest. A couple of tears fell from his eyes too, but he tried to remain strong for his best friend who was hurting more than she ever had before. He stroked her arm, sending Lydia and Isaac a look from where they stood outside the jeep, upset looks on their faces.

"Is she-" Isaac began, but Scott just shook his head.

They all knew Harper wasn't going to be okay until they got Stiles back.


	9. Chapter 9

The night that followed was torturous, not to mention one of the longest of Harper's entire life. Bitter thoughts clouded her brain, her heart resting heavy in her chest as she hugged her pillow close to her chest for the slightest bit of warmth. Although they didn't compare to the arms that she was starting to remember the feeling of.

When she woke after about an hour of shuteye, her entire body felt drained. Slowly, Harper forced herself out of her bed and moved to the bathroom, slipping into the shower. The hot water cascading down her back provided her with a sense of comfort, her hands hugging her arms as she just stood there, never wanting to leave.

Eventually, Harper forced herself to start washing her dark hair, convincing herself that she would feel a little better once she was cleaner. That was always the way it worked with her. As she reached to rinse the shampoo from her brunette locks, something inside her snapped.

Sorrow.

It was strange since the Empath hadn't even been thinking about anything when it occurred, but she quickly realised that this emotion was unfamiliar to herself in the sense that it was not her own. Harper's hands released her hair and moved to cup where her heart was as if trying to stop the stabbing pain there.

It didn't hurt physically but mentally, and perhaps that was worse. She squeezed her eyes shut as the emotion subsided, leaving her back to feeling void. Harper conditioned and washed her body before climbing out of the shower, wrapping her towel around herself.

She walked out into her bedroom, jumping at the sight of Scott in her room. His eyes took in her half-naked figure and his brown eyes immediately bulged, turning to look anywhere but her body. Harper held the towel tighter to her body but rolled her eyes at his childish reaction. He'd seen her in nothing but a bikini multiple times.

"Sorry," the alpha apologised, still making a point of covering his eyes as a gentleman would. "I didn't see anything, I swear."

Harper sighed, "Scott, it's fine. It's not like I'm naked." She held the towel with one hand but searched through her wardrobe with the other, trying to find something suitable to wear for the day. "Was there something you needed?"

"Yeah, or well, Isaac and I were going to head down to the Sheriff's station and talk to him about the whole radio situation last night," Scott spoke softly, aware of how badly she had taken it. "I was wondering if you wanted to come with us."

The brunette settled on a plain black top and a black skirt that had a zip running down the middle. Scott acknowledged the way she hesitated for a second, her hand gripping a pair of tights from her drawer tighter than she probably should have.

"He won't believe us," Harper disclaimed, her tone unusually pessimistic. "There's no point."

She moved to head back to the bathroom but Scott reached out, his large hand wrapping around her arm and pulling her back, forcing her to look at him. He almost softened at how empty her brown eyes looked but he clenched his jaw, knowing that he was going to have to be the one to give her some tough love right now.

"You're not giving up on him now, are you?" Scott furrowed his brows, watching the way her face fell. "I get that you're upset, Harper, we all are. But right now you need to start thinking with your mind rather than your heart. So we can save Stiles."

Her facial expression didn't change for a few moments and no words escaped her lips. She just stared straight back at him, almost making him crack for a moment before Harper nodded, clearing her throat.

"Yeah," she muttered, running a hand through her wet hair, "you're right. Let me get ready and I'll help you in a few."

Scott finally softened, his grip on her arm loosening as he let her go. He watched her leave through the bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind her. The werewolf released the breath that he had been holding, his shoulder sagging in relief.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Harper was back to holding her heart, that same sorrow stabbing through her chest again. Confusion impaled beside it, followed straight after by loneliness. She exhaled loudly, shutting her eyes until the feelings passed.

She had connected to someone and she had a feeling she knew who it was.

...

Just as Harper had predicted, Sheriff Stilinski was having none of it. He and his wife had already dismissed the brunette the day before, but now she was back with two of her friends and demanding that he listened. Noah closed the door, turning back around into his office where the Empath stood in between Scott and Isaac, her arms folded across her chest.

Despite wearing only black, a rare occurrence for the yellow-loving teenager, Harper looked much brighter than she had this morning when Scott had first seen her. Maybe it was the concealer under her eyes or the way her conditioner made her hair shine or the way she was carrying herself like she was fine. Either way, he was impressed.

"All right," the Sheriff recapped, "you heard a voice coming through the radio, and now you're convinced that it's the voice of-"

"Stiles," Scott confirmed as he cut him off with a nod, "your son."

The pair stared at each other for a moment, Scott's eyes silently pleading with the older man for him to believe them. Noah just scoffed, disbelief written across all of his aged features.

"Uh huh," Sheriff Stilinski spoke, "and maybe it's just a random signal cross?"

Harper reached into her skirt pocket, pulling out the keys that she had had on her since last night. She placed them down on top of a notepad on Noah's desk, watching as his blue eyes cast down to them in confusion.

"Peter gave us the keys to the jeep and it started right up," Isaac explained, also seeing the look the man was giving them.

"Claudia's jeep," Harper added.

He looked between the three, angry, "okay, so wait a second, now I'm supposed to trust Peter Hale?"

"We need you to trust us," Scott corrected, shaking his head softly.

"Noah, please, you have to believe us," the brunette pleaded, "we heard Stiles on the radio last night, we all did. H-he was scared. He still is."

Isaac picked up on her last sentence, sending her a strange look as if to ask how she knew Stiles' mental condition. Before he could ask, Scott was back to rambling, trying to get the Sheriff to give them a chance.

"Please, Sheriff, if you had been there-"

"Well, I wasn't!" Noah snapped.

"Yeah, but if you had-"

"Enough, Scott, enough!" Sheriff Stilinski suddenly bellowed, making all three teenagers flinch backwards a little.

Everything went silent as Noah shoved the keys back in their direction. Scott scooped them up, clenching them in his hand as she stared at the man in disappointment. Harper had been right about Sheriff Stilinski not believing them, but that didn't mean he was giving up there.

As they were leaving the station, Isaac gently grabbed onto Harper's wrist, stopping her from climbing into her car. She turned back to him, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Come on, guys," she urged, "we need to think of something else."

Scott admired her new optimism, sending her a smile which she appreciated. Isaac shook his head though but released her.

"You said he's still scared," Isaac reminded her. "How do you know?"

This made the other werewolf frown, his mind casting back to the conversation that they had been having before it had gotten so tense in the small room. Harper's tongue nervously darted out to wet her bottom lip, her hand dropping from the door handle of her car.

"I think I connected to him," she explained, her voice barely above a murmur. "When we were on the radio last night, I think somehow I connected with Stiles and I can feel his emotions every now and then."

"And he's scared?" Scott asked, frowning sympathetically as he thought of the teenage boy.

Harper bit down on her lip, nodding. "He's terrified."

Her phone buzzed, as well as Isaac's and Scott's. The three of them all pulled the devices out of their pockets, reading the text message that was in the group chat they were in with Malia and Lydia.

Lydia: we're going to Canaan.

...

Harper was being tapped awake, her eyes slowly fluttering open. Scott's head lifted from hers from where they had fallen asleep against each other in the back of Lydia's car, his arms unfolding from across his chest. Isaac sat the other side of Harper, blue eyes looking outside the car.

"Where are we?" Scott groaned.

Malia huffed from the passenger seat, "according to the GPS, this is it."

They climbed out of the car and Harper was shocked, to say the least. The town, which was probably once bustling with life, now seemed to have a permanent dreary filter over it. Even in the middle of the day, it was dim, not a single bright colour in sight.

Rusted leaves created carpets against the cold pavement beneath their feet, crunching with every step they took. As Scott slammed the car door behind himself, the noise echoed through the desolate neighbourhood, reminding them of just how alone they truly were.

Old cars were left on the sides of the road, windshields smashed in and bunting flung around, rolling in the slight breeze. Abandoned bikes were left to rust at the end of the road, every shop window smashed and every brick becoming home to browning moss.

The five teenagers stood in the middle of the road, not even having to worry about any cars coming. As far as they were concerned, no other car would ever pass through Canaan anyway. Harper wasn't sure how she didn't know about the abandoned town sooner. This was like nothing she had ever seen before.

"This is it," Lydia muttered from next to her, "Canaan's a ghost town."

They began to walk, entering a street filled with homes. Each one was just as abandoned as the last. Nobody said a word as they moved, although Harper could feel the nerves radiating from them all. They didn't know what to expect when Stiles had told them to find this place, but it certainly wasn't this.

"I don't hear a single heartbeat," Isaac spoke up, his voice barely above a murmur as he trailed in between Scott and Malia, blue eyes flickering to the rundown houses.

Malia nodded as she added, "I'm not catching any scents."

"I wonder why Stiles would send us here," Scott muttered, finishing just as a lampost above their heads began to crackle with electricity before dying out again.

They paused, all glancing at each other as if to debate whether to carry on or not. Harper was the first to take a step forward, reaching the end of the road where they stopped one more time to stare up at a banner strung across the street above their heads.

"This is the place I saw in the mirror," Lydia muttered, recalling the events that had taken place in the school bathroom a few hours back.

Nobody said a word as the group hovered around, Malia and Scott heading over to a picnic table that had things still left out on them. Lydia remained frozen in her spot, Isaac following Harper to where a carousel stood. It was old-fashioned, the once-bright colours faded.

Plastic horses had vines travelling up them and wrapping around their necks, any piece of metal in sight rusted orange. The rest of the pack were right behind her as soon as they saw the source of entertainment, eyes immediately casting to the unusual liquid covering it. Harper couldn't decide whether it was blood or not, although it looked suggestive.

Scott moved to take a step on it, his heart leaping out of his chest as the large machine started up, jolting beneath his weight. Harper's hand grabbed his arm, pulling him back as they watched with wide eyes while the carousel began to slowly grind around, the music morphed to sound like something straight out of a nightmare.

Harper swallowed, "I swear to god if Pennywise jumps out of the drains I am leaving."

...

The Empath sighed as she began her search like the rest of her friends, looking around for a reason that might have made Stiles want them to come here. She didn't stray too far from them, somewhat afraid that something was lurking in the shadows, waiting to get each of them alone so that they could attack.

It was most likely just her vivid imagination running wild since she was in an abandoned town, but the idea still stuck to her like a rash, making every move she made a cautious one.

Harper tucked some fallen hair behind her ear as she turned the corner of a house, heading into the backyard. Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw a girl stood with her back to them. She appeared eerily familiar from behind, however, Harper knew it couldn't be true.

"Allison?" She whispered.

The girl in question turned, revealing herself as the pale huntress. Harper's breath hitched, eyes wide. She moved forward, heading to the teenage girl who was smiling sadly back at her.

Allison Argent looked as beautiful as the last time Harper had seen her, which had been a few days before her death. Her pale skin was glowing, her brown eyes twinkling and her dark hair cascading just above her shoulders, the front neatly pinned back. A white dress hugged her figure, and she appeared to be wearing no shoes. 

"Harper," Allison cried, tears burning in her eyes as she glanced down.

Harper realised that she was holding her stomach, crimson blood staining her hands. Allison suddenly stumbled back, landing onto the grass. The shorter brunette quickly dropped to her knees, grabbing Allison's head before it hit the ground. A tear fell from her eye, landing on the deceased girl.

"He did this," she whimpered, "Stiles did it while I tried to save you."

"Allison, don't say that," Harper pleaded, "it wasn't him. Stiles would never-"

"How do you know?" The hunter's breathing was becoming more strained, tears blinking their way out of her eyes. "I tried to help him. I tried- I tried to help."

"You did help," Harper was crying now too, "Ally, you saved us all."

"You didn't save me."

Harper froze. Before she could reply, Allison's hand reached out quickly, immediately wrapping around Harper's neck and causing her to gasp loudly, scrambling for Allison to release her. As soon as Harper's hand went to touch her hands, the huntress disappeared, and so did the pressure on Harper's throat.

Harper touched her skin, shuddering at how cold it had felt. She blinked as she looked around the garden, her heartbeat slowing when she realised that Allison wasn't there and she never had been. She hadn't hallucinated the Argent girl in almost a year now.

A hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. She whirled around and grabbed their wrist, twisting it.

"Hey!" Isaac pulled his hand out of her grip, "dude, what the hell?"

Malia stood behind him, staring at her with raised eyebrows. "Did you hallucinate too?"

Releasing a sigh, Harper nodded, "yeah, I saw- I saw Allison."

"Oh," Isaac muttered, "I saw my dad. We were back in the basement and he was dragging me to the freezer..."

Noticing the way her ex-boyfriend's eyes were glazing over, Malia placed a hand on his arm and shook her head, silently telling him that he didn't need to explain himself to the two girls. Clearing his throat, Isaac nodded at her.

"I had one too," the werecoyote said, although she chose not to elaborate, "we need to find Scott and Lydia and tell them."

Once they had met up with Lydia, who was walking aimlessly around the middle of the road, they went looking for Scott. Isaac managed to sniff out his scent in thirty seconds max and they found him in the back garden of a random house, his chest heaving.

"Mom?" Scott called, staring off into the distance.

Lydia placed her hand on his back, snapping him out of it. He turned to face his four friends, his breaths heavy and his brown eyes filled with tears of fear. Harper sent him a sympathetic look.

"It's okay," Lydia reassured him, "your mum's not here. You're okay."

Scott looked back to where he had thought she had been, blinking in disbelief. "I saw her," he insisted, "and her head looked like somebody took a bite out of her skull."

"Scotty, it was fake," Harper explained softly, "this place is making all of us hallucinate."

"It felt real," Scott shook his head, his voice thick with emotion as he memorised the way his mother, the woman that had brought him into the world and raised him with nothing but love and kindness, had looked.

"It's the energy here," Lydia grumbled, storming to get back to the road as the others followed close behind, "we can't stay here."

Harper shook her head, "Lyds, we can't leave. We still haven't worked out why Stiles wanted us to come here."

Isaac shrugged his shoulders, agreeing with the redhead. "To be fair, there's nobody to ask. There's nothing here."

"We can ask him," Malia pointed across the road at a small boy that had his back to them.

His golden hair was cut back into a bowl cut, his white socks pulled up and his blue shirt tucked into his shorts neatly. He looked like a character out of an eighties movie.

"Hey!" Scott called, not necessarily thinking things through.

The boy whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight of the unfamiliar teenagers. Immediately, he took off in a sprint down the road, leaving them all shocked.

"What do we do?" Lydia whispered.

"Go after him!" Scott cried.


	10. Chapter 10

They ended up not being able to find the little boy after a couple of minutes, their jogs slowing down to walking as they moved down the centre of the road, heads turning in all directions. Isaac quickly hissed, his hand smacking down on the person closest to him, who happened to be Harper, to alert them.

Everybody glanced in his direction, seeing a curtain shifting in the windows of a house. Scott, as the leader, moved first, heading up the pathway and to the door with confidence in his stride. Harper was right behind him, not knowing exactly what they were going to say to the boy once they finally found him.

The werewolf peeled open the door slowly, cautious as they entered the house. The furniture appeared old fashioned, the air thick. Harper followed behind him, wondering why every other house was empty apart from this one.

"Hello?" Lydia took courtesy in rapping her knuckles against the door. "Is anyone here?"

Isaac huffed when nobody replied, repeating louder with much more annoyance, "hello? Kid, we know you're here."

Harper smacked his arm, glaring up at him. "Yeah, that doesn't sound intimidating at all. I'm sure he's just going to come out and run straight into your arms."

The blue-eyed boy rolled his eyes, simply ignoring the English girl and her sarcasm. Quite frankly, Isaac didn't want to be in Canaan. The place was freaking him out and he could think of much better ways to spend his free time. But he knew exactly why he was here; he wanted to help his friends and Stiles.

"Visitors?" A woman gasped from in the living room, making Harper and Isaac both gasp out of fright.

Malia and Lydia shot them a look that said 'really?' as the duo clung to each other's arms. Harper peeled herself off of the much taller boy as she stared at the woman dressed in a dress with the ugliest pattern on it. She grinned wide, teeth and all.

"I can't believe we have visitors!" She began to approach the group of supernaturals, her tone showing nothing but excitement. She didn't even seem to acknowledge the fact that they had broken into her home.

"Oh, Caleb will be so happy to see you!" The woman stepped into the living room, her grin not faltering for a second. "It's been such a long time since he's had anyone to play with!" She paused when they said nothing. "Oh, you must be thirsty. Come on in and have a seat while I get you something to drink."

She did a little jog as she moved back towards the kitchen. The pack all began to move further into her house, though not without caution.

"Seriously, what is with her?" Malia whispered.

Lydia whispered back, "she's the woman I saw in the mirror."

...

The woman reentered the room once the teenagers were seated around her dining room table, a tray in her hand with six glasses on top. She beamed at them all as she set it down on the table in front of them.

"This was my mother's lemonade recipe," she explained proudly with a chuckle, "at least as much as I can remember. We always served this when we had friends to visit."

Harper reached out, politely taking one of the glasses and inspecting it. Floating at the top was something gross, like flakes from plaster or something. She settled it back down on the table, not saying anything. However, as she glanced to her friends to see if they had noticed, she found Malia gulping hers down without a second thought.

"Maybe slow down, Malia," Isaac suggested, crinkling his face up as she put his cup down and turned to the woman who had seated herself in between Malia and Harper. "We didn't come to visit anyway, we're actually looking for someone."

Scott nodded, "a friend of ours. Maybe you've seen him? His name is Stiles."

The woman pursed her lips as she thought before she shook her head. "It's been a while since anyone came through Canaan."

"How long?" Harper asked.

The greying lady looked to the ceiling as she thought, though nothing was coming to her head. Malia shuffled into her pocket, producing part of a newspaper that she had found sprawled out across one of the picnic benches by the creepy carousel.

"Since April 8th 1987?" She asked, placing the newspaper by the woman.

Harper felt as the woman's emotions darkened, the smile falling off of her face. It left the teenagers feeling disturbed, no longer feeling welcome in this house.

She glared, "why would you disturb those things? They don't belong to you."

Clearing her throat, the Empath spoke up, "um, we're sorry, miss. We just wanted to know what happened here."

Her gaze didn't soften as she turned to face Harper now. "There was a picnic. A community party."

"Seems like everybody was in a rush to leave," Isaac acknowledged.

"People had been leaving Canaan for a long time," she shrugged, "that's the day the last of them left."

Scott frowned, "all at once? They all just disappeared?"

Harper felt the fury in the woman grow, making her shoot a nervous look at the alpha. Sure enough, the lady's face had hardened dramatically, her teeth practically baring at Scott.

"I didn't say they disappeared," she seethed, "I said they left."

The table rattled, making Harper and Lydia both jump from next to each other. Lydia moved to hold Harper's hand under the table, although the brunette wasn't sure whether it was meant to make herself feel better or Harper.

"Did they leave in a cloud of green smoke?" Malia asked.

Suddenly, she stood, grabbing hold of the bottom of the table as she screamed, "they just left!"

Harper's hand tore from Lydia's as she held onto the table, a sickening sensation making it feel like the room was spinning around her. Malia, Isaac and Scott were both the same, dazed looks in their eyes as the swayed side to side in their seats.

Lydia remained put, pursing her lips as she apologised quietly, "we didn't mean to upset you. We'll go now."

Harper was first to get up, freaked out by the furious lady. She stumbled beside Malia, the werecoyote holding onto the Empath for support that she wasn't getting. They pack resembled a group of drunk friends trying to assist each other as they made their way to the door, only for it to be slammed shut in their faces by an invisible force.

It was like they had sobered right back up as they whirled around, facing the older woman who stood in the doorway, her chest heaving with anger.

"No one is leaving," she spat, "no one is leaving Canaan ever again."

Immediately, Scott bashed his body up against the front door, his hands gripping the handle as he tried to twist it open. Everybody watched nervously as it didn't budge, not even with the strength of a True Alpha up against it.

"Scott, you're a werewolf," Malia reminded him quietly, not peeling her eyes off of the insane woman in front of them. "Open it."

"I'm trying," he disclaimed while Isaac moved to the window, peeling back the curtains.

The Beta screwed his hand up into a fist and sent it flying at the glass, but nothing happened. it didn't even crack. Not even when Malia tried to help him, using her own fist to punch the glass.

"Little help?" Isaac turned to Harper who stood with her arms folded, nervous.

Harper glared back at him, "I'm literally an Empath. What do you want me to do? Cry? There's something wrong with this place."

"Lenore?" Lydia called shakily, "could you unlock the door, please?"

"Now that you're here," Lenore replied, "you need to stay. Caleb likes you."

Lydia headed over to the lady, switching sides so that Lenore stood with her back to the rest of the pack. "And we like him," Lydia insisted, "but we need to save our town. People are disappearing- uh, leaving, I mean leaving- you could really help us."

"Nobody can help you," Lenore shook her head bitterly, "if they want to leave, they're going to leave. They'll go, and they'll go, and there won't be anything you can do about it."

Harper turned when she felt a presence behind her, her heart practically stopping at the sight of the little boy from before stood in the doorway.

"Come with me."

The staircase that lead down to the basement was eerily cold. Harper's hands moved to rub her arms as she followed behind Scott, Malia right behind her. Caleb, Lenore's son, had run down to the lowest floor of the house, much to the teenagers dismays.

Despite Harper's protests, Lydia decided to stay with Lenore, saying something about needing to know more about what had happened in the mirror. Harper left the Banshee hesitantly, the rational half of her knowing that her best friend was perfectly capable of protecting herself.

"Who the hell hangs out in a basement?" Isaac muttered distastefully from the back of the group, his face scrunched up. "And why are we on babysitting duty now?"

Harper replied quietly, "he might know something about Stiles."

"Or even better a way out," Malia scoffed while Scott opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, revealing the basement.

The lights flickered above their heads like something out of a Saw movie, small windows at the very top of the plain walls giving them some extra source of light. Harper winced as she made her way down a small set of wooden steps, her suede ankle boots sinking in water that covered the whole floor.

In the corner of the room was a table with drawings scribbled onto paper, other childish toys sprawled out across the place. A play horse was in the other corner, meant for rocking on. Isaac held back a remark as he stepped down into the cold water, immediately feeling the cold liquid sink through the material of his shoes and freeze his toes.

Ignoring the little boy stood in the middle of the room, Scott quickly rushed towards the window and reached up on his toes, working as hard as he could to get it open. His face fell when the metal lock didn't budge no matter how hard he tried.

"Caleb, can you help us find a way out of here?" The alpha pleaded, his voice soft in an attempt to get the little boy on their side.

Caleb didn't respond verbally but turned around to an old TV propped up on some shelves. He grabbed a cassette from one and popped it into the DVD player, the black and grey dots leaving to reveal what looked like the recording from a camera. Another version of Caleb, a happier version, was running around a garden. In the corner was the date 'AUG 12 2985'.

"We have to stay because mummy said so," Caleb insisted, a small smile on his face as he watched himself blow bubbles on the screen. 

"I'm sorry, but we can't stay, we have to go home," Harper spoke softly from where she stood next to Malia who just stared at him, clearly disturbed.

Without turning to face them, Caleb replied in a demonic tone, "this is home."

The door slammed shut from the top of the mini staircase, making all four teenagers jump in surprise. Malia turned to Harper.

"Do you see the date?" She whispered, watching as Harper nodded. Malia cleared her throat and called out to the little boy. "Uh, Caleb? Do you know what year you were born?"

He stood up and turned to face them, Harper's eyes widening at his appearance. Water now soaked his hair and his clothes, running down him as if he had just been out in the rain.

"1976," Caleb replied, staring straight at the werecoyote.

Isaac swallowed, "and when did you die?"

Water started to pour from the basement door and down the steps, trickling in steadily from the windows too. Harper pursed her lips, moving closer towards her friends who had formed a sort of protective circle in the middle of the room, away from the boy who had moved to the top of the steps to stare across at them.

"Am I having another hallucination?" Malia called to the others, watching the scene with wide eyes.

"If you are, then I think I'm having the exact same one," Harper retorted.

A very familiar scream suddenly echoed throughout the basement, hitting three pack members particularly hard. They stumbled at the banshee scream of 'Allison', remembering exactly how it had felt to hear it the night that it had happened too. Isaac and Scott exchanged glances.

"We've got to get out of here," Scott panicked.

Isaac scoffed, "I'm not letting an eight-year-old stop me from leaving."

He moved forwards, baring his fangs at the kid and flicking his razor sharp claws out. Before Isaac could even make it to Caleb, the werewolf was being choked mid-air, stopping him from going anywhere near the smirking little boy. 

Isaac collapsed into the water, gasping for breath as he held his throat. Malia bit her lip, her brown eyes glazing over with concern as she watched water spill from her ex-boyfriend's mouth to join the liquid pooling around them.

"You don't look so good," Caleb mocked, "maybe you should sit down."

Isaac continued to choke as Malia ran to him, placing her hand on his back and smacking it. Tears strained in her eyes as she tried to help him, yelling at him to breathe. Harper was on the other side of Isaac, also panicking. The werewolf's eyes were straining red, his gasps for breaths becoming much more strained.

"Lydia!" Scott yelled for help, moving to go up the stairs.

Suddenly, water started to pour from his mouth too, making him retch. Harper's eyes widened as she felt liquid come up her throat, preventing her from breathing. She held her throat with her dainty hands, her brown eyes wide as water trickled from her lips. Malia was copying her actions soon after, all four of them under the spell of Caleb.

Harper kneeled on the wet floor, her heart pounding as every second without breathing went by. A mixture of a cough and a choke went by, making her face go a little red. She released her neck as her hands smacked to the ground, trying to steady herself from where she was starting to go lightheaded, her lungs burning.

"What are you doing to us?" Scott wheezed.

"You're drowning, just like me," Caleb smiled, "now we can be friends forever."

All four were gasping, black dots splattering their visions. Just as Harper thought she was about to take her last strained breath, the water stopped passing through her lips, her lungs clearing like she had taken a hit from an inhaler or something. Her friends were doing the same, gulping for air as they received it.

Scott turned back around from where he had been clawing at the staircase, looking straight to the Empath while Isaac and Malia comforted each other. He grabbed her arm, his eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" He panted.

Harper nodded quickly, although she still felt a little sick. "Are you?"

"Mommy says you can go now," Caleb called as the door slowly swung open, letting light pour through.

Malia and Isaac helped each other climb up, Scott guiding Harper to her feet. None of them hesitated to get up and leave, running straight back up the basement stairs and into the hallway. They ran outside into the fresh air, thankful to see Lydia waiting for them in one piece.

"Let's get out of here," Harper insisted.

"Yeah, let's go," Malia agreed.

They paused as Lenore and Caleb moved out of the house, staring at them with sad eyes. Lydia pursed her lips from where she hadn't moved from her spot.

"You can still come with us, you know," she insisted.

"I couldn't leave Caleb," the woman shook her head.

"Lenore, you know he's not real," Lydia replied softly, watching as the woman looked down at her pale son and smiled, him smiling back. She repeated her words from before, so the pack left. 

...

"You guys think Stiles sent us here to warn us?" Scott asked as he stared out of the window in the backseat of Lydia's car, his brown eyes watching every lamp post they went by in the night. "Maybe Beacon Hills is gonna be the next ghost town."

Harper hummed while Malia replied, "if we can't stop it, yes. We need to get them to leave now."

"We can't," Lydia shook her head, "not yet."

Isaac scoffed, "and why the hell not?"

"Because I saw what happens to the people they've taken when they leave," the strawberry blonde responded.

"Do they all die?" Harper murmured.

"No," Lydia answered, "it's something worse than death. I felt it in Lenore's memory. It's like their souls hollowed out. They became something else. I think they became Ghost Riders. And then, they were gone."

Lydia dropped Scott, Isaac and Harper off home, the three of them walking tiredly through the front door. A light was coming from the kitchen, making the three teenagers glance at each other strangely. Melissa was with Chris at the hospital, so it couldn't be her.

Scott kept his arm out, forcing Harper to stay behind the two werewolves as they moved into the kitchen. His hand bunched into a fist at the sight, all three teenagers glaring. Stood with Hayden and Liam in the middle of the kitchen was Theo Raeken himself; back from the dead.

"I'm no Empath, but I have a feeling we're not going to hug this out," the chimera muttered.

Scott seethed, "I hope you realise it's taking all my strength to not tear you in half right now."

Malia entered from the back door, growling at the sight of Theo.

"Malia," he smiled, "you aren't still upset about the whole shooting thing, are you?"

Her eyes began to glow an electric blue, her fangs growing in her mouth as she bared them at him indicating that -yes- she was still mad about the 'whole shooting thing'. Harper sighed, realising that something was about to go down.

Again.


	11. Chapter 11

Before Harper could even process it, Malia had Theo pinned beneath her while she punched his jaw repeatedly, growls falling from her lips. The chimera under her grunted in pain every time her fist connected with his face, blood splattering up his skin. Harper watched, eyes slightly wide.

"It's okay," Theo mumbled, his head still turned to the side. "You don't have to stop."

Malia flicked her claws out and smirked, "trust me, I won't."

Panic rose in Theo's eyes, but before his face could get slashed up by the werecoyote, Scott dove forward and grabbed her wrist, restraining her.

"Malia, enough!" The Alpha ordered as he lifted her off of him, Liam stepping in to help. She growled at the two of them, making the sophomore jump. "Slow down, okay? He's going back in the ground."

"You can't!" Liam exclaimed, causing everybody to look at him strangely.

Isaac folded his arms across his chest, "why the hell not? Are you forgetting everything he put us through seven months ago?"

Awkwardly, Liam's gaze flickered over to Harper who stood with her arms folded against her chest, away from all of the werewolves with claws. The brunette pursed her lips at him and gave him a quick nod, indicating for the beta to just spill it.

"He remembers Stiles."

Harper swallowed, her tongue darting out to swipe her bottom lip nervously. When Liam said that Theo remembered the teenage boy, she wondered how much Theo actually remembered. Maybe he even remembered more than them, which made her hurt a little but also gave her a glimmer of hope that things could work out.

"Harper remembers Stiles," Malia spat at Liam, "I remember Stiles. Scott, Lydia and Isaac remember Stiles."

"The Dread Doctors knew all about the Wild Hunt," Liam explained quickly, "he can help us."

"Or he could kill us," Scott stated slowly, looking at his beta as if he was insane.

Maybe he was.

"He's my responsibility," Liam lifted up a weapon that had been in his hand the entire time, which for some reason, Harper was only now noticing. "Noshiko gave me the sword."

Theo, who had climbed to rest against the wall, panted, "it's so awkward when mum and dad fight."

"Shut up!" Both Liam and Scott turned to spit at him.

Hayden finally spoke up, "you both are right. If Theo tries anything, we'll send him back to the Skinwalkers. But for right now-"

"He goes back right now," Scott shook his head, his tone stern with no signs of sympathy whatsoever.

Theo cut in, "except Liam's the one with the sword."

"Shut up!" Everybody yelled this time, actually making the smirk on Theo's face falter as he fell back against the wall to heal.

Scott grabbed Liam's arm, dragging him into the living room to discuss something in private. Malia began to advance towards Theo like a predator stalking their prey, making Harper stand in front of her.

"Malia," Harper warned, "I know you want to kill him, but you gotta remember that that's not what we do. Okay?"

"Look," Theo breathed causing the tree girls plus Isaac to look at him. "I know there might be some mixed feelings going around, but I might be your only option to stop the Wild Hunt."

Isaac clenched his jaw, feeling nothing but distaste for the teenage boy sat in his own home. He watched with concerned eyes as Harper began to move towards Theo, hesitantly lowering herself to a crouching position in front of him.

"You remember him?" Harper murmured, her tone softer than what the others had been using with him all night. "You remember Stiles?"

Theo wiped the blood surrounding his mouth with the back of his hand, sending the brunette in front of him a small nod. He didn't miss the way her dark eyes brightened slightly, causing him to chuckle slightly.

"Harper..." Isaac warned, not liking that she was going to him like this. It meant Theo knew that Harper had a vulnerability, and none of them trusted him in the slightest.

Ignoring the werewolf, Harper pressed further, "does he have hazel eyes?"

Theo scoffed, "we weren't exactly best buddies, so I didn't spend my time staring into his eyes." He watched as Harper glared at him harshly. "But yeah, yeah- they were dark."

The Empath released a breath of anticipation, her heart fluttering at the detail from her drawing. 

Before she could ask anything else, Scott and Liam reentered the room, scowls on both of their faces. Malia grabbed Harper's shoulder and pulled her up, Theo quickly moving to stand to his feet as the sophomore boy approached him.

"I can put you back in the ground anytime," Liam threatened, holding the covered sword for emphasis.

Theo shrugged, "you also need a transformer that can handle five billion joules of electricity. I know where to find one and I can show you how it works. I'll tell you if Malia promises not to kill me."

Malia growled, but Liam spoke up, "she promises."

"No, I don't!" The werecoyote interjected, looking to Scott and Harper. "We're really going to do this? Trust him?"

"You got a better idea?" Hayden asked from the other side of her.

"I've got an idea," she shrugged, "it may not be better, but at least it's not him."

...

Everybody, apart from Malia and Lydia, had gone to the preserve the next night in order to attempt to catch a Ghost Rider. Harper also decided not to go, which made sense since her Empathic abilities did not include healing or fighting, and she didn't want to end up in a hospital bed next to Peter Hale anytime soon.

Malia had gone to visit him in order for her part of the plan to take place, but Harper had no idea what Lydia was doing. As far as she was concerned, the Banshee was still a little bit shaken up over the whole Lenore and Caleb thing from a couple of days ago. Lydia had found out that the Wild Hunt would take everyone apart from her, leaving her alone just like Lenore.

That was enough to worry anyone.

Harper's phone began to buzz from where she was laying on her bed, facing the ceiling. She grabbed the device and held it to her ear, not even bothering to check who was calling.

"Hello?" The Empath greeted quietly, despite being the only one home.

"Harper," Lydia's voice came from the other end. "I've been doing some thinking about everything that's been going on with the Stilinskis and Lenore and Caleb."

Harper sat up on her bed, frowning, "go on."

"Well, Lenore conjured Caleb to fill a void that she felt after the Wild Hunt and that got me thinking," the strawberry blonde explained, "what if Sheriff Stilinski is filling his own void by using Claudia?"

The brunette's breath hitched in her throat. "You think Claudia's dead?"

"Between the fatal disease she supposedly recovered from and the jeep that she said was stolen but was actually Stiles', yes!" Lydia continued, "and did you see her face when you started peeling back the wallpaper? No, of course, you didn't, you were out of it. Well, she looked angry, but she also looked scared."

Harper nodded, "scared I'd find Stiles' room and tell the Sheriff."

Lydia paused, "his room?"

"Behind that wall was Stiles' room," Harper bit down on her bottom lip, shuffling off of her bed. "I can feel all sorts of emotions coming from it- from Scott and I. We were in there a lot."

"You've got to tell him," Lydia rushed, "Harper, he might not want to hear it, but he needs to."

Harper nodded quickly, just as Noah's contact began to flash up on her screen. He was already calling her.

...

Claudia opened the door to Harper, her face falling a little when she saw the teenage girl, mumbling something about Noah being down the hall. Harper sent the woman a pursed-lipped smile and thanked her quietly before she took off in the direction that she could feel all of the sadness and regret.

Her breath got caught in her throat at what she found as she turned the corner.

Instead of just a minor tear in the wallpaper, there was a hole missing from the entire wall. Noah had torn it down, caving it in to reveal a door that lead into a whole other room. Harper's heart pounded in her chest, feeling emotions coming from a new person this time.

Since she had connected to Stiles, she guessed that she could now feel his that had been there from before. So much happiness and joy came from the empty room, but also some sadness and fear. It had definitely been in his bedroom.

Stood in the centre of the open space was Sheriff Stilinski, a solemn look in his face as he watched the teenage girl step through the doorway and enter, her movements slow. She looked around, her eyes involuntarily welling up with tears.

"You knew about it, didn't you?" Sheriff Stilinski questioned, tears in his eyes as he watched her nod hesitantly. "God, it was in the blueprints! It was here when we moved in. That was eighteen years ago."

The Empath looked away from him, her heart heavy at his words. Her brown eyes stuck to a double bed with blue sheets that had appeared in the corner of the room and then a bulletin board nearby. She whirled to face the other side of the room, a table and chair appearing by the window with an empty evidence board behind it.

She whirled to face the other side of the room, a table and chair appearing by the window with an empty evidence board behind it  
"Sorry," she heard the faint murmur of a teenage boy. Stiles. "I just wish you'd had a happy life you're whole life."

"Well I'm happy now," she heard herself reply sleepily, "here, with you."

There was a small pause, "I'm happy too."

Harper shuddered at the voices, her head turning to face the one that was now actually communicating with her.

"Harper?" Noah called worriedly, "what is it?"

Harper blinked. Everything disappeared.

"Nothing," she murmured, disappointed, "I just- it's nothing, Sheriff Stilinski."

He changed topics, "I just don't understand how you knew this was all here. If you want to discuss the probability that I had a son, I'm listening."

A small smile broke out on Harper's face, a tear falling from her eye and going past. She moved over to the door and closed it, worried that Claudia might be listening. After the conversation that she had had with Lydia over the phone previously, that was the last thing that she wanted right now.

...

"So wait a sec," Noah rubbed his temples as he recapped everything Harper had just explained to him over about ten minutes. "So this woman, 'Lenore', she conjured up her dead son?"

Harper pursed her lips while she nodded, "yeah, that's what Lydia explained to me. She's was the only one left, so she had to fill the void somehow- that thing being her son, Caleb."

"And you saw this kid?" Sheriff Stilinski didn't disguise the judgement in his tone, making Harper's face falter a little while she nodded.

"Lenore saw it happen, but she didn't want to believe it," Harper explained, "she wanted to believe in her son."

"What are you trying to say? You think Claudia isn't real?" He accused, "you think I made up some phantom wife?"

"I think," Harper took a deep breath, scared of upsetting him, "I think that you're afraid to remember Stiles."

"She's a flesh and blood woman!" Noah disclaimed defensively, "she's real. Everything else here..." He gestured around the room, "is just speculation. Conjecture. It's just... It's a theory based on a ghost town!"

Harper didn't say anything, feeling utterly defeated. He had been so willing to listen until she'd mentioned the idea of his wife not being real, then he'd shut everything down, refusing to believe in Stiles yet again. She cast her eyes behind him, her heart stopping at a chair with familiar burgundy material flung over it.

A lacrosse helmet was on the seat, a jersey reading '24' over the back. The Empath moved past Noah, heading over to the chair. Her fingertips ghosted over the numbering, a breath falling past her lips when she felt the soft material. Harper lifted it, a smile tightening across her face as she held up Stiles' jersey.

Pressing it close to her face, Harper inhaled the scent, her insides fluttering at the scent. It was clean and had hints of cologne covering it, her brain sparking to try and grab more memories. She glanced up, tears falling down onto the shirt when she saw the look that she was receiving from Sheriff Stilinski.

"You don't see it?" She sniffled.

He shook his head, "what I do see is a deeply disturbed young woman."

Harper clenched her jaw slightly, shaking her head as she tightened her grip on the jersey. "You wanted to know him, but now you're too scared. You're scared because remembering Stiles would mean leaving Claudia behind."

"Why do you care so much if I remember him?" Noah's voice shook.

"Because you loved him," Harper muttered, throwing the jersey at him.

She watched as his hands moved to catch it, the material landing in his tight grip. Noah stared down at it, his heart pounding out of his chest at the shirt that had appeared out of thin air.

The shirt that had belonged to his son.

...

"You're going to bite Stiles?" Harper repeated the words that she had just been told, though they came out hesitant and strained.

When they told her to meet them at the police station the next morning, this was not what she had been expecting them to tell her. As soon as she'd gotten home last night, Harper had taken a long shower where she thought a lot about remembering Stiles, heading to bed with wet hair since she was so tired. She didn't even see Scott or Isaac until this morning.

Scott, Malia, Liam, Isaac and Lydia all waited for her reaction, ready for her to kick off or plead for another plan. However, the Empath didn't do either of those things. Her brown eyes remained trained on Scott for the answer, eerily calm although her lips remained pursed.

The Alpha nodded in confirmation, "to get him through the rift. It's the only way."

The only way Peter had managed to get through was because he was a werewolf, however, if Stiles tried to go through then they knew he would die. Her heart ached at the thought of Stiles being turned and then sent through the rift only to get badly injured as the former alpha had.

Peter pushed himself off from the wall that he had been leaning against, no longer covered in burn marks. Fortunately for him, Melissa and Malia had found a way to save him last night, in return that he helped them get Stiles back.

"Just to clarify," the older man spoke up, "are you planning on biting everyone in the train station?"

Isaac shrugged, "with Stiles back, he'll be able to help us figure something out."

Peter paced back and forth, "so the plan is to get Stiles to come up with a plan?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, "we're aware it's not the best plan, but he's been in there for god knows how long now. He'll be able to think of something since he knows that place better than us."

The werecoyote huffed as she added, "you can shut up now."

"Malia, look around. We're the only ones left in Beacon Hills," Peter exclaimed, "if they take us, Lydia will be the only one left to haunt the place."

Scott interjected, "that's why I'm the only one that's going in. Liam and Hayden will stay here with Mason. As long as somebody is left in Beacon Hills, the Wild Hunt can't move on."

"I like your plan, Scott, I really do- especially the part about turning Stiles," the former alpha agreed, causing Harper to glare at him slightly. "But it can't work."

"How do you know?" Isaac accused.

"Logic, life experience," Peter listed, "What are the odds of Harper being taken? Oo, a little sweethearts reunion at the train station. How cute. But, oh, what if Stiles isn't there? What if there's no Beacon Hills for you to come back to?"

"You got a better idea?" Liam asked seriously, his tone drained from any enthusiasm.

"Yeah!" The blue-eyed-man insisted, "it's called 'run like hell'. So... leave in five?"

Malia glared as she walked up to him, "you promised you'd help us. You still need to help us find the rift."

"I didn't promise I'd help you commit suicide."

"Whatever," Isaac scoffed, shaking his head at the man, "we don't need you. We can find it ourselves."

"Isaac, I admit that you and your little group of friends have a flair for beating the odds, but this? You don't walk away from," he began to back up, heading towards the door. "You run."

And with that, Peter Hale did what he always did: he saved himself.

...

Harper walked beside Scott at the front of the group as they trekked through the woods about an hour later. They stayed true to their word, determined to find the rift that would lead them to where everybody was being taken without the help of Peter. Harper could sense Malia's disappointment in her father, but still, she said nothing, not one to share her emotions.

"How long until the Ghost Riders showed up?" Scott called to Malia.

"A couple minutes."

"That's reassuring," Lydia muttered under her breath from the back.

"What's the rift supposed to even look like?" Isaac questioned.

Lydia spoke up, "if it's a tear of fabric in our world, theoretically it could look like anything from a microscopic black hole to a free-floating Einstein-Rosen bridge."

"A wormhole?" Harper grimaced, hating the word with a burning passion.

Lydia nodded in confirmation just as they came to a clearing full of dead grass leftover from the summer heat. Scott suggested that they split up, but not even a few seconds later he was calling everybody over to look at what he had found.

It was what Harper assumed was a tunnel that lead underground with bars covering it. Except, the bars had been bent from the inside out, charred black. Scott crouched down, picking up a leaf from the ground that rested with the others, all burnt black.

Harper's breath hitched, "the rift's below us."

They made the decision to all go down, Harper straight after Scott who shone his phone as a torch for her. Her brown eyes strained in the dark as she pulled her own phone out of her pocket, looking around at everything. It barely helped her see as everybody else came down after her.

"I can't see a thing," Lydia complained from beside her.

Scott started walking on, "it's gotta be down here somewhere."

Harper stuck close to her alpha friend as they turned around a corner, taking right instead of left. Malia moved to go in the opposite direction only for an invisible force to propel her backwards, sending her straight to the concrete ground with a grunt. Isaac grabbed her arms and helped her back up, frowning when he saw the green waves.

"Found it!" Malia grunted.

Lydia took a step forward, inspecting it. "It's remarkably similar."

"To what?" Isaac asked.

"To the Einstein-Rosen bridge," Harper finished for the banshee.

...

Malia had managed to pull down a large steel pipe running along the side of the tunnels down, pressing it against the rift with as much pressure as she could muster. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she grunted, watching smoke roll off but no reward take place. Eventually, she released it, exhaling loudly.

Harper bit down on her bottom lip, feeling a little bit of hope drain from her. "There's gotta be another way," she insisted, "we need to think."

"Think?" Isaac scoffed, "as if we haven't already been doing that?"

Harper rolled her eyes while Scott elaborated, "yeah, we need to think about how to get through a supernatural rift that melts steel."

"Didn't say it would be easy," Harper muttered.

An unfamiliar voice ran out from behind them, "but it doesn't have to be so hard..."

Harper didn't recognise the man standing in front of them, but he sure did look intimidating. He had blonde hair and dark eyes, well built and dressed in a formal shirt. Scott and Isaac had briefly told her about this man: Mr Douglas.

"He followed our scent," Scott realised.

"I followed your desperation," he sneered, "we're all in a tough spot. Desperate to get inside and save everyone, and hoping to find a way to stop this army of the dead. We all want the same thing."

Lydia pursed her lips, "he has a point."

"If he doesn't kill anyone," Malia tightened her grip on the steel pipe, glaring at the murdering teacher- and not the first one at Beacon Hills, by the way.

"Else," Scott added, "if he doesn't kill anyone else."

Mr Douglas kept a neutral face as he replied, 'all that matters right now is getting through that rift."

Harper shrugged, "then good luck trying cause the rift burns through anything that goes through it."

"Perhaps not everything."

Everybody's eyes widened as Parrish came up behind Douglas, his chest stained with charcoal. He bared his fangs at the group of teenagers, growling as his eyes flashed neon green.

"Jordan," Lydia's eyes widened, landing on the man that she had started to like over the past year or so after getting over Harper.

With the whole Ghost Rider thing going on and Harper and Lydia ending up together by supernatural circumstances, she'd forgotten all about the man that she had had a thing with last year.

"If the Hellhound can open the rift, we all go together," suggested Douglas.

Malia's face scrunched up, "you're the bad guy. I'm pretty sure helping you is a bad idea."

Harper hummed in agreement.

"Good guy, bad guy," Douglas muttered, rolling his eyes, "when has anything ever been so black and white?"

"World War II," Liam panted as he came running around the corner, making everybody shoot him strange looks. "He's a Nazi, he wants the Hunt for himself. He wants his own supernatural army."

Douglas chuckled, a grin taking over his face as he threw the whip he was holding out in front of him, his hand gripping tightly on the handle. Harper pursed her lips, wondering what the hell a bloody Nazi was doing here- until she remembered that it was Beacon Hills.

"We're not letting you through that rift," Scott warned him.

"'Not letting me'?" The Nazi began to swing the whip slightly. "I see. You still think you have a say in the matter."

Suddenly, he pulled the whip back and with a ferocious cry, snapped it forwards. Everybody jumped back, the end missing Scott by only a few inches. The Alpha bounced back, his eyes glowing bright red as he roared. It didn't stop Douglas from trying again, each time stepping closer.

Liam grabbed hold of Harper and Lydia's wrists, dragging the two girls out of that section of the tunnel and into a safer part where they could still check on Scott, Malia and Isaac. Douglas sent the whip in their direction again, causing both Malia and Isaac to quickly bail, joining them.

"Scott!" Harper yelled worriedly when the whip almost touched him for what felt like the hundredth time, causing the alpha to dart over to them.

"Hollenhund," Douglas called, advancing towards the rift.

Parrish moved in front, his hands digging into the force field and parting it with as much strength as he possibly could. The cracks in his skin glowed like fire as he opened the rift up further and further.

"Parrish, stop!" Scott called, but Douglas whipped at them to keep the group back.

"Wunderbar," Douglas grinned, looking at the rift that Parrish had managed to open. The Hellhound roared at the pack in response. "Hollenhund, kommen."

Parrish roared one more time and with that, Malia yelled, "now!"

The pack took off running after Douglas and the Hellhound, however, the rift closed right up behind them, blocking the teenagers out. Harper cursed under her breath, the disgusting feeling of doubt starting to swallow her whole.

"Stiles," she choked.

The rift suddenly flickered and two Ghost Riders exited side by side. Scott stood in front of the pack, his arms out to stop them from moving in front of him. They all backed up, watching the creatures with wide eyes.

"Liam, you, Harper and Lydia get to the bunker," Scott barked his orders.

The beta didn't hesitate to once again grab the slightly older girls, running off with them to said place. The trio raced down tunnels and tunnels, pausing when they heard a loud roar.

Liam froze, "that roar wasn't promising."

"Just keep going!" Lydia insisted, "keep going!"

They made it around a corner, yet again coming to a halt when they saw a Dread Doctor just stood there, pointing a gun at them. Lydia dashed in front of Harper and Liam, stretching her arms out. Harper gasped, holding onto her arm but Lydia shook her off.

"Keep back," she warned, "stay behind me. Follow me."

Harper remembered how Ghost Riders didn't want to take Banshees and she felt a little better, no longer resisting. Liam and Harper stuck behind Lydia like glue, their eyes trained on the Ghost Rider who wasn't moving but just watching them instead.

"It's afraid of you," Liam mumbled as soon as they had moved past it and far away.

"I'm afraid of me."

...

Scott's phone beeped. Again.

"We're sorry, the number you have reached is not in service. Please check the number or try to call again."

"Scott," Harper placed her hand on top of his, making him look up from where he had repeatedly been trying to call his mum. "Scott, please."

However, they'd all come to the conclusion that she had been taken by the Ghost Riders too  
However, they'd all come to the conclusion that she had been taken by the Ghost Riders too. Just like everybody else in this town.

"What do we do now?" Liam questioned numbly from where he sat on the counter in the McCall kitchen, staring around at his friends who looked just as hopeless as he felt.

"We can't hide from them," Isaac shrugged.

"What about Lydia?" Liam nodded in the direction of the strawberry blonde who stood by the window. "The Ghost Rider's afraid of her."

The Empath shook her head, "they weren't scared. They... They respected her."

"Doesn't matter," Scott finally spoke, his voice drained. "The rift is gone. We're the only ones left in Beacon Hills.

Harper dropped her head into her arms which were rested on the table as Lydia sat next to the brunette, gently stroking through her dark hair. The back door creaked open, causing her to lift her head. She was shocked to see Sheriff Stilinski there since she'd just assumed he would have been taken like everybody else.

He stood there for a couple of seconds, inspecting the group of hopeless teenagers who said nothing.

"I have a son," Noah suddenly murmured, making Harper's heart skip a beat. "His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but we call him Stiles. I remember."

Tears burned in Harper's eyes, but they didn't shed. She grabbed Lydia's hand, squeezing it on top of the table as they watched the man in front of them confess.

"When Stiles was a little kid, he couldn't say his first name," Sheriff Stilinski recalled, "not sure why. It pretty much rolls off the tongue, but, uh, the closest he could get to it was 'Mischief'. His mother called him it until..." He breathed heavily. "I remember when Stiles first got his jeep."

He smiled to Harper who sent him one back.

"It belonged to his mother, she wanted him to have it. The first time he took a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch," he remembered with a soft chuckle. "I gave him his first roll of duct tape that day. He was always getting into trouble, but he always had a good heart. Always."

Harper rubbed under her eyes where a couple of tears had fallen.

"We're here tonight because my goofball son decided to drag Scott and Harper, his greatest friends in the world, into the woods to see a dead body."

Scott blinked, tears falling. "How did you remember?"

Noah glanced back over to Harper, "it started with Stiles' jersey. Then I found the red string for his crime board. Finally, his old room came back and all of the memories. And then the strangest thing happened."

"What?" Harper whispered eagerly.

"I thought I saw him," he whispered back, "it's like, something opened right there in the middle of the room just for a moment, and then it was gone."

Harper's heart was pounding, the possibility of Stiles coming back making her feel like she was about to cry again- but bawling tears, not just little ones like she was currently doing.

"A rift," Scott murmured, causing Sheriff Stilinski to blink at him in confusion.

"I thought there was only one?" Isaac asked.

Malia nodded, "we saw it disappear."

"You remembered Stiles," Scott looked to the Sheriff, "and then a new rift was created."

"If the Sheriff can do it then we can," Harper insisted.

Liam interjected, "but that rift closed."

"Then we'll open it again," Scott insisted, "by remembering Stiles. We have to remember everything."


	12. Chapter 12

"The tunnel gates locked!" Lydia called as she came jogging down one of the underground halls, her strawberry blonde locks flying all over the place. "Everything's locked."

Harper quickly pulled her into the room that the five teenagers had picked and closed the door behind her, using all of her upper body strength to twist the lock shut. Seeing her silent struggle, Isaac reached out and moved it with one hand so it clicked shut. He sent her a smug look, causing her to glare.

Malia wandered over from where she had been securing any other doors around them. She wore a tire expression on her face, small pants escaping her lips.

"You think it will hold them off?" She looked between her friends.

"Probably not," Scott shook his head.

"Definitely not," Isaac grumbled with Lydia jabbing her thumb in his direction to show that she agreed.

Malia huffed, "you guys aren't hoping I'm going to be the optimist, are you?"

"Nope," Harper forced a strained smile, "that's me."

The pack's eyes slowly all shifted over to the freezing machine that Lydia mentioned Parrish had been in last year during the whole Beast issue. Scott walked over to it, everybody else following in tow.

"So, how cold does this thing get?" He questioned the Banshee who had the only experience with it.

"Cold enough for a Hellhound," Lydia responded, "it's not the same as the ice bath that you had, Isaac, but it can lower your core temperature past anything a human can survive."

Malia shook her head, "so what does freezing our asses off have to do with our memories?"

"It'll slow your heart rate and put you in a trance-like state."

"Like hypnosis," Isaac added.

"Hypnotic regression," Lydia muttered, "if we can figure out how to work it..."

Everybody scanned the screen, Malia pointing to a green button that read 'start' and claiming that maybe it wouldn't be so complicated. Scott huffed, pointing out all of the other dials and buttons that covered the side of the machine.

Harper bit down on her bottom lip, "how much time do you think we need to do this?"

"Enough time as Liam and Stilinski can buy us," Scott answered, and with that he reached up, pulling the lock off of the door so that it swung open.

The coffin-shaped freezer made Harper feel uneasy as she stared it, wondering what was going to happen to Scott once she climbed in. All she knew was that she couldn't handle losing her other best friend if this was to all go wrong.

Scott peeled his shirt off, rolling his head back in an attempt to hype himself up before getting into the freezer. Isaac reached forwards and pressed the 'start' button, causing the entire machine to come to life. It made a low buzzing noise and started to release cold air into the bunker.

"Okay, it's doing something..." He glanced over to Scott worriedly, "are you ready?"

Scott didn't reply but moved forward, grabbing the door. Before she even realised what she was doing, Harper's hand had moved to grab his wrist, stopping his actions briefly. He looked back at her in confusion.

"Please," Harper gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze. "Be safe."

"You too," he murmured back as she released his wrist. "Don't connect to me, Harper."

Nodding, she let him do the rest. Scott climbed into the freezer and pulled the door shut, watching Lydia through the glass as she began to cautiously turn all of the levers and push all of the right buttons- at least she hoped.

"Remember," the strawberry blonde called as the machine made a fizzing sound. "This will get cold enough to kill you. So, if something feels wrong, or like it's not working..."

He cut her off, "it's going to work."

"I hope you're not saying that because you think I know what I'm doing."

"I'm saying that because I know you can figure it out."

Lydia gave him a small nod and with that began to twist the last of the dials. Harper watched with weary eyes as the chamber started to feel with col air, making the werewolf inside immediately clench his eyes shut and tense up.

"Okay!" He gasped, "it's cold. Like, really cold."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Malia questioned, "talk to him? Help him remember? Wait until he turns into a werewolf freezy pop?"

"We need to guide him," Lydia spoke calmly, "keep him focused."

Harper nodded confidently, turning away from her three friends and approaching the glass that Scott was being practically tortured behind. She placed her hand on the glass, catching his attention.

"Scotty," Harper called, watching as he nodded eagerly, "you need to try and concentrate on Stiles. Think about what he looks like, or the way he talks. How he's our best friend in the whole world and everything he's ever done for us."

She knew Scott couldn't remember any of that- neither could she- but maybe her words would trigger something in his brain that would get him to remember an event that would help Stiles come back to him completely. It didn't work, the machine growling lowly.

"I don't like this," Isaac interjected.

"Give him a few more seconds," Lydia urged, grabbing his arm before he could get any closer to the machine.

Harper watched him struggle, groans falling from his lips that made her eyes soften. His hand suddenly slapped against the glass, directly against Harper's. She lurched back, eyes wide as he remained still. His body stopped shaking, his hand sliding down.

"Scott?" The brunette cried, "do you hear me?"

His brown eyes were slowly closing, making Harper shriek, "Scott, please don't close your eyes. Please, please, please do not close your eyes now."

"I'm trying," he groaned in response.

"You're losing consciousness," Lydia tapped her hand against the glass, feeling her heart start to pound. "And if you do that, I think we're going to lose you."

"Scott!" Malia yelled, making his eyes open a little wider. "Stay awake!"

"Scott!" Isaac banged his hand against the glass, causing the werewolf inside to jump.

"You kissed her, Scott. You kissed Harper," Scott heard an unfamiliar voice in his ears and he found himself in the hallway of his house.

Harper was leaning against the wall outside his bedroom, a body flickering next to her. Scott's eyes widened, realising that this must be Stiles. He couldn't get a good look at him since every other second Stiles' body would disappear and then come back, like a glitch in a hologram.

"Stiles, please let me out," he heard his voice cry from his bedroom. "It's the full moon, I swear. You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose."

Scott saw Stiles completely this time. The boy had a buzzcut and he wore a jacket over a plaid shirt, his large hands touching Harper who sat in between his legs, her head on his chest while they listened to Young-Scott's words with devastated expressions.

"And it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless. Just please, let me out," Younger Scott pleaded.

"I can't," Stiles muttered back.

Scott listened to himself scream in the other room, his eyes softening at the way Stiles and Harper looked. They hated listening to him in pain.

Outside of the machine, Harper was watching the werewolf who's head was snapping left and right, looking around with frantic eyes. She could tell that he was remembering something, causing adrenalin to pump through her veins.

"Scott," she called, "try to find him in your memories. Good or bad."

Scott's eyes were wide as flashbacks of detentions and lacrosse practice came back to him, agonising memories of fights and Stiles having panic attacks in bathrooms. Harper was there for a lot of them, but of course, she didn't remember these.

"What's happening to him?" Isaac panicked, watching as tears pooled in the alpha's eyes while he shook.

"I don't know," Lydia replied.

"He doesn't look good," Malia added, "he looks... lost."

"Maybe it is," Harper swallowed, "maybe he's remembering too much all at once and he's becoming overwhelmed," she lurched forward and began to smack her hand on the glass repeatedly, "Scott! Scotty, listen to me! You've got to try and focus."

Scott's hands clamped over his ears, his eyes closing. Harper didn't even look away from him when they heard a bang come from the other end of the bunker. Her hand remained in the glass and she closed her eyes, trying to push relaxing energy through.

"You hear that?" Malia began to walk away towards the sound.

"Thunder?" Lydia suggested.

"I don't know," the werecoyote responded before looking back at Scott and Harper. "Harps, you can't do that. You've only ever been able to push that stuff through by skin on skin contact."

Harper gulped, "I don't know what else to do!" She pulled her hand away. "This isn't working and Scott's getting hurt as a result of it. We need to get him out before he freezes to death or his memories kill him!"

"Well we need to try something else," Isaac spoke, looking to Lydia. "There's got to be another way. Right?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "this is my first attempt at trying to open a dimensional rift in space-time. So I'm kind of fumbling around in the dark, okay?"

"Well I'm getting him out of there," Malia reached forward, but Lydia slapped her hand down.

"Wait, I'm not the only one fumbling around in the dark," the banshee muttered, watching as her friends all shot her strange looks. "I think we have to treat this like actual hypnosis. They use images to guide you through memories. Like, a stairwell. The steps take you down through one year of your life to the next. That's how they regress you back."

Isaac sighed, folding his arms against his chest, "so what do we tell him?"

"Scott, can you hear me?" Lydia called, making Scott's eyes scrunch shut. "Imagine you're in the high school. Visualise yourself in the high school, in the corridor where all the lockers are. Just try to imagine yourself standing there. That's where your memories are. They're all in the lockers. They're locked away behind each one. Every memory of Stiles in a separate locker. Scott, you're there in high school. You're standing there now."

Harper watched the alpha's brown eyes snap open, and he went still, his hands sliding off from where they had been covering his ears. She could only hope that it had worked.

"Guys, I need your help," Scott called after a few minutes, his eyes still locked shut. "I don't think I can do this."

"Keep looking, Scotty," Harper urged, "you're doing great."

"There are memories, but I don't know which one's the right one," he replied, still in his trance. "What am I supposed to do?"

Harper looked to Lydia for help who huffed before calling, "find another memory. Just find another memory!"

Minutes went by when a painful sensation washed over Harper's body. She stumbled back, knocking against Isaac and Malia who had been right behind her. They both grabbed her body, the werecoyote wincing as her fingertips brushed against Harper's bare arm.

"She's freezing," Isaac exclaimed, looking to Lydia who's green eyes had widened.

"She's accidentally connected herself to Scott," Malia panicked, helping the brunette in her arms stand up straight. "Harper, you need to disconnect yourself from him right now."

Lydia glanced over to the machine where the temperature reading had gone so low down, the glass covering it was freezing over and cracking.

"Harper doesn't have a choice," she realised, "Scott's her alpha and he's in danger. Like that time the Alpha pack tore into Scott's stomach. She was miles away but she still felt it because he was about to die."

"We need to get him out then," Isaac urged, reaching over to the table behind him and grabbing a blanket that they had brought along.

He began to wrap it around Harper's trembling body, although it barely influenced the ice that she could feel wrapped around her heart. She whimpered in pain, faintly hearing Malia say something about Scott needing to feel a connection to Stiles because of a memory.

"Like an emotional connection?" Lydia swallowed.

"That could be why it worked for Stilinski," Malia nodded.

"But Harper was connected to Stiles," Isaac reminded them, "now she's connected to Scott, though."

"It's worth a shot," Malia grumbled, making her way over to the machine and placing her hand on the glass. "Scott, can you hear me? I remember something. At the start of the year, Stiles was trying to find a place for you, Harper and him to leave after graduation. He said you were getting an apartment together?"

The werecoyote watched the tears that gathered in Scott's eyes as his head twitched to the side slightly. Harper shifted in Isaac's arms, the two of them watching intently.

"And I remember saying something to Stiles. Something like it's not always a good idea to live with your friends," Malia continued, "even your best friend. But Stiles said it wouldn't matter because you weren't just friends... you guys were more like brothers."

"Scott, you gotta listen to me, okay?" Stiles' voice echoed in the werewolf's head. "You're not no one. Okay, you're someone, you're... Scott, you're my best friend. Okay? And I need you... Scott, you're my brother."

Malia turned to Harper, "and he said you two were like soulmates."

Harper's mouth opened to reply when her heart stopped beating altogether.

"Scott," she managed before a pained gasp escaped her lips, her body falling away from Isaac. He grabbed her just in time, his ears perking when he heard no pulse coming from her.

"She's not breathing!" He yelled, blue eyes wide, "Harper's not breathing! Get Scott out of there!"

Malia and Lydia rushed to get the machine open, the werecoyote's hands immediately grabbing the teenage boy and hauling him out as quickly as she possibly could. Scott was immediately gasping for breath, his dark eyes moving over to Harper who was practically lifeless in Isaac's arms while he cradled her.

Images of Allison filtered through his brain and he choked back a sob, darting over to one of his best friends. As soon as his hand touched her arm, Harper's body lurched forwards, her lungs gasping for air that came all too quickly, causing her to cough.

The teenagers all released sighs of relief, Isaac's shoulders sagging as he gave her hand a little squeeze which he had already been holding. Harper's eyes flickered towards Scott and she immediately jumped into his arms, ignoring how cold his chest was pressed against her.

Scott hugged her back, blinking away tears that had threatened to escape his eyes. "Nothing happened," he shivered, his grip tightening around her waist. "It didn't work."

Harper sniffled against him, "it's okay. We'll find another way. A way that won't get you killed."

Shaking his head, he pulled away from the English girl and stood up, Lydia and Malia automatically grabbing his arms.

"I'm going back in," he shook their hands away, his tone determined as he headed for the machine.

"No, you're not," Lydia snapped.

"It was working, something was happening. I could feel it," Scott told them as Isaac helped guide Harper back to her feet.

The Empath scowled, "well, all I could feel you dying Scott. Nothing else happened out here, nothing. No rift, no Stiles."

Malia nodded, looking down to where he was shaking. "You're still too cold."

"We can't do nothing," Scott panted, rubbing his arm in an attempt to heat up.

Isaac huffed, "not nothing," he released Harper and ripped his shirt off. "I'll go in."

Harper was forced to leave the room in order for her to not connect again, Malia following since she didn't want to watch Isaac in pain. The two girls sat with their backs against the wall outside of the room, Harper's hand tucked in Malia's.

"Are you listening?" Harper murmured, watching as the werecoyote turned her head to the side, towards the room that they were in. "What are they saying?"

"It's Isaac," she mumbled, "he's murmuring something about how Stiles' has always been jealous of him because if Isaac wanted to, he could give you everything."

The brunette was a little taken aback by her words, leaning back against the wall. Memories of a fight taking place between the three of them flooded her brain. She and Isaac had been fighting over Harry's letters when Stiles had walked in and accused her of cheating, leading to a breakup fueled by the werewolf himself.

"Were you two together before me?" Malia whispered, "I know he had a thing with that Allison girl, but..."

Harper shook her head firmly, "no, no. Isaac and I have never been anything but close friends. Ever since he moved in back in junior year, he's been more like a brother anyway." There was a silence before she added, "do you... do you still like Isaac?"

"He's the first person I've ever loved," Malia confirmed, tears welling in her brown eyes. "I think I'll always be in love with him, but... I don't know."

"What don't you know?" Harper murmured, squeezing the girl's hand for comfort.

"If Isaac still loves me too."

Suddenly, a blaring alarm in the other room began to go off coming from the machine itself. Harper yelled at Malia to go and the werecoyote darted into the room, trying to help get Isaac out of the machine that he was stuck in. As soon as Harper heard the release of air, she rushed into the room to find Isaac shaking in Malia and Scott's arms.

Lydia began to switch off all of the dials while Harper took off the blanket from around her shoulders, handing it back to Isaac who smiled gratefully, his teeth still chattering.

"What are you doing?" Scott demanded as he glanced in the banshee's direction.

"It's too dangerous," Lydia reminded them, "we're not going to save anyone by freezing you guys to death."

"I haven't had my shot yet," Malia interjected, "and Isaac's turn was working, wasn't it?"

"It was a light and a strange noise," she dismissed, "no Stiles."

"But I remember him now," Scott replied, making Harper's eyes widen. "I can see him in my head."

"So can I," Isaac agreed.

Harper looked between the two boys, feeling slightly jealous that they could remember him. However, beating that petty emotion was the feeling of hope. 

"That means we can bring Stiles back," Harper smiled slightly, "and then everyone else, too."

"There's a huge difference in being a vivid memory and an actual corporal human being," Lydia shot her down.

"Which is why it should be Harper," Scott turned to his best friend, grinning a little. "It's all about connection. Not only are you a freaking Empath, Harps, but when I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I don't think anyone had a connection like you guys. Screw that, I know nobody had a connection like you and Stiles, Harper."

"I saw it too," Isaac breathed, "you have to try, Harper."

Harper was already nodding eagerly, "I'm in. I'm so in. But... but what if that thing kills me? I'm not like you two. I won't last two minutes in there."

Lydia pursed her lips, "we're going to need to do it all the old-fashioned way. We're gonna have to hypnotise you."

...

"My mother had a hypnotist who helped her quit smoking," Lydia mentioned as she began to write up what she was going to say into a notepad. "She made me see the same one when I was ten."

Scott stopped from where he was shuffling around in one of the cabinets, his brows furrowing together in disbelief. "You smoked when you were ten?"

Harper snorted while Lydia rolled her eyes, "no. I bit my fingernails. Just find a lighter or a candle, please."

Malia flicked on a blow torch she had found. "Too much?"

"I got one," Isaac rushed over, holding a white, wax candle that he had managed to find in one of the many drawers.

"Sit down," Lydia grabbed Harper's shoulders, leading her over to the table in the middle of the room and giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Before we start, I need to say something."

Harper peered up at her curiously, "what is it?"

Malia lit the candle on fire with the blow torch while Lydia continued, "just like how Sheriff Stilinski had Claudia filling his void, I think you had one too, Harper."

Scott's brows furrowed, "what is it?"

He looked just as confused as Harper felt.

"Me," Lydia sighed, "when Stiles disappeared, we ended up being together. I filled the void that stopped you questioning for a while whether something was missing, although you two were so in love that barely lasted a day."

"So what do we do?" Harper murmured, raising her eyebrows.

"We need to break up since we haven't actually officially done that yet," Lydia bit on the inside of her cheek. "And just for the record, I am breaking up with you, not the other way round."

Harper chuckled slightly, moving to squeeze Lydia's hand. "Well, Lyds, you were the best girlfriend I never really had. I'm glad we can go back to just being the best-est friends ever now."

Lydia smiled back, shaking her head in amusement as she sat opposite the brunette, placing her notepad down on the table.

"What's that?" Isaac asked, pointing at it.

"It's an induction script. One of you should talk Harper through this," Lydia spoke, handing it over to Malia who frowned down at it.

"So I just read?"

"Well, you have to soften your voice. Keep it relaxed, but not monotone. Go for clarity, not volume. Try it," Lydia explained before looking to Harper, "you need to close your eyes and do everything that she says."

Malia cleared her throat before, in the most awkward and broken voice, began to read. "Take a deep breath and look at the candle."

Harper's eyes snapped open, trying not to laugh at the werecoyote who was reading as a four-year-old would. Lydia snatched the book from her grasp and handed it to Scott instead. Harper straightened in her seat, Scott's eyes drifting to hers where he sent her a reassuring nod.

"Take a deep breath and look at the candle," he read, his voice gentle as she obeyed. "Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands relaxing, your eyelids relaxing."

As Harper's eyelids closed, Scott couldn't help the giddy smile that crossed his face, knowing that it was working. Lydia nudged him, urging for him to continue.

"As you relax, imagine you're sitting in your room, with your sketchpad."

Harper suddenly felt a temperature change and realised that she was in the comfort of her own bedroom, her sketchpad down on her lap. She looked around, her brown eyes wide once she realised that it had worked.

"When you open the sketchpad, it's going to show memories from your life," she heard Scott's voice ring from all around her. "Each page has a different one and you have total control to see any memory you want. All you have to do is flip the page."

Shakily, Harper turned the page, revealing the first memory.

"Oh dear," Rose stood in front of her, a frown on her face while she dried her hands with a tea towel. "Have you and Stiles had a falling out?"

Younger Harper rolled her eyes as she nodded, "you can call it that."

Harper remembered this day clearly. They'd been trying to control Scott's anger and one thing lead to another and the trio had ended up in detention. It was only after that they had gotten into a fight, resulting in her parents being mentioned.

Stiles was knocking on the other side of the door, calling her name. Harper's eyes were studying the page that had come to life, listening as he pleaded for her to forgive him on the other end. It ended with her rushing up the stairs and listening as Rose opened the door to Stiles.

"Sweetheart, you need to give her time. You know how Harper gets when somebody she loves hurts her..."

Harper flipped the page, not wanting to watch that memory anymore. A new one, a happier one, came up, making her smile a little. They were at the winter formal in their sophomore year and he was wearing a white shirt, looking particularly handsome.

Her eyes watered at the sight of him. This was the first time she had properly seen this Stiles Stilinski and he was far more than she had been expecting. She was stunned as she watched him lead her onto the dancefloor, wrapping his arms around her waist while she rested her head on his chest.

"Try to find a memory of Stiles," Scott's voice called, "a memory where you felt a connection with him."

Scott, Lydia, Malia and Isaac watched as Harper in real life flipped an imaginary page, her eyes still closed.

"I don't want you to be Batman," she whispered under her breath, making the four teenagers all glance at each other strangely.

It was the night that Scott had rushed out onto the bus and Stiles and Harper had been left on watch. That was the night where they had also almost kissed for the first time.

"Yeah, maybe being Stiles Stilinski isn't so bad," Stiles smiled nervously from where he sat in the jeep beside her. "After all, Batman doesn't have you."

"Find another memory," Scott grinned, "Find another memory. Keep searching for Stiles."

Harper flipped a page.

"Couples give each other nicknames, right? I can call you babe... if you want? Or- or I can call you sweetheart, or baby? Does baby sound too forced? Or just Harp. Or if you don't like Harp I can just call you Harper-"

She turned another page.

"Don't apologise, please. The last thing I want is for you to feel guilty or upset. I'm just glad that you're okay."

"Me too."

"Harper? I love you."

She turned the page again.

She was being guided through the Sheriff's station, a bullet wound in her shoulder and her stomach. Managing to glance down slightly, she saw Stiles lying on the floor beside Derek, paralysed. 

"Hey, hey," he was screaming, "what the hell? Harper- Harps, are you okay?"

Harper flipped the page.

"Harper, please, just listen to me, okay? I don't want you to get hurt. I don't think you realise how every single time you're injured, how- how much it pains me. It's like the worst freaking pain ever right in my chest- right where my heart is. Because seeing you in pain makes my heart want to freaking collapse, okay? Seeing you get shot was the last straw, Harper. If- if you die, if you die, I will go out of my mind. I will go freaking crazy, Harper. I couldn't go on without you, you're- you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Ever."

She flipped another. 

"Stiles?" Harper whimpered.

Harper realised that she was in Eichen House. It was the night that Stiles and the rest of her friends had come to save her. 

Stiles let out a shaky breath, his eyes wide and his lips parted as he dove to kneel down by her head. Blood soaked the pillow beside it, her hair went and sweat clinging to her usually-tan skin. Now it was as pale as the material beneath her.

Both their hearts were pounding as his fingers shakily moved to part her dark hair, finding the hole in her head. He swallowed thickly, a tear rolling down his cheek as he looked back up at Harper. She was watching him, her bottom lip trembling.

"Is this real?" She whispered. It sure felt like it to her, but this could be just another sick trick being pulled by her father himself.

Stiles was breathing heavily. "It's real," his voice raised accidentally from all of the built-up emotions he had inside him- relief, anger towards Valack, sadness, excitement. It was like a melting pot of feelings. "This is real. I'm here."

"No," she whimpered, causing Stiles' heartstrings to tug painfully. "No, stop pretending. This is the final part isn't it?"

"Harper, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm getting you out of here, okay?" Stiles promised her, his hazel eyes burning with so much sincerity that Harper realised this couldn't be her psychopath of a father.

He struggled for the leather straps around her wrists, his trembling fingers getting the clasps undone. His eyes cast down on the bruising around her wrist, his jaw clenching.

"Stiles, he's gonna come back," her voice was weak but frantic- something Stiles didn't think he had ever heard from her before. "My dad. Valack. He's gonna come back."

"Harper, I'm not leaving you here," he gritted his teeth, still trying on the first strap. "I can't do it. I can't."

A door buzzing cut him off and he noticed how much Harper flinched. She was terrified, and he didn't even need to be an Empath to know it.

"Sti, please," Harper cried out, her fingers desperately reaching around to touch his. Their skin touching felt like fire, and they never wanted to it to end. "Hide, please."

Stiles hesitated, leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. She kissed back weakly, his heart hammering in her chest as he gently squeezed her shoulder.

"I'm not leaving you," he whispered, "I'll be right behind you. I promise."

Harper flipped the page one last time, and suddenly she was at the cliff edge in the woods. She was watching herself as she stood by the edge, peering over with a phone in her hand. Suddenly, footsteps came racing and a teenage boy had her in his arms, pulling her into his chest as they both cried together, sobbing their hearts out.

Harper's hand went to her mouth as she watched herself apologise to Stiles, but he just hushed her and cupped her face, forcing her to look into his eyes that were red from all of the crying that he had been doing on the way over.

"I don't want to be a burden," past-Harper wiped her tears, "I had nobody else to call."

"Harper Jean Verum," Stiles cut her off, shaking his head as he clenched his jaw angrily. "You are not a burden, not to me, not to anyone. I love you so fucking much, you can call me whenever you need me. Even if you don't need me, you can call me. And I promise I will answer because you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

"You, Harper Verum, are my main priority. They- they say high school relationships aren't meant to last forever, but I can't imagine a life without you by my side. If- if you did what you came out here to do, then everything would be ruined. Our wedding day, our honeymoon, our holidays were you take me to Brighton and show me where you grew up, my dad bouncing our kid on his knee like he did with me, growing old together... I want to do it all with you, and if you do this...

"So you can't leave me," he shook his head again, clenching his jaw harder as his eyes didn't stop the waterfalls, "I'm a selfish person, Harper. I won't let you."

Harper was back in the bunker now, tears streaming down her face and her hands trembling on the table. Everybody was watching her sympathetically as she sniffled, her brown eyes locked on the table in front of her.

"He wouldn't leave me," Harper cried out loud, "he never left me."

Flashbacks of Stiles kissing her flooded her brain, followed by the time he stopped her panic attack outside the video game store when Peter had attacked her and Jackson. She remembered the first time that they had made love and then how happy he had been when she had paid off his father's debt. When he cried to her about Donavon, their first kiss in her bedroom, when they had gotten back together after being broken up...

Finally, she saw the night that he had been stolen from her.

"Marry me," his voice echoed, "we can- we can get engaged for years and then finally get married when we've finished with college and settled into some big home together back in Beacon Hills, and then we can have two kids and you'd get to name the first one, of course, and I'd name the second. And- and we'd be so happy. So fucking happy, baby. Promise me. Promise me you'll marry me someday."

"And I was there," she sobbed, "I was the last person to see him and I never got to say yes. I never told him I would."

Ignoring her last statement, Scott asked, "when? When did you see him?"

"The Ghost Riders, they- they took him."

Scott held onto her hand as she wiped her eyes, pain infiltrating her system. Before she could say anything else, the room began to rattle and glow a bright green colour, causing everybody to look around in confusion.

Harper pulled her hand away from Scott's and stood, heading to the door. She opened it, her eyes widening at the bright light coming from the hallway. A figure began to walk through the mist, Harper's hand flying to her mouth as she realised who it was. 

"Stiles!"


	13. Chapter 13

The shadow wasn't coming any closer, making her heart pound in her chest erratically. She swallowed, tears streaming down her face faster as she managed to grin. Stiles was coming back to her.

"Come on, Stiles!" Harper urged, realising that he was struggling to get through the rift. "Sti, I can see you. Please, Stiles. You can do it!"

Her smile faltered as the bright light slowly began to dim, leaving nothing in return. No Stiles. Harper whispered his name, all of her energy leaving right there and then. Lydia placed a hand on her shoulder from behind her, making her whirl around.

"What happened?" She asked the genius quickly, "why didn't he come back?"

Lydia shook her head sympathetically, "we didn't see anybody, Harper."

"He was there," the English girl refused to believe them, "I saw Stiles. Stiles was right there and he saw me too."

Isaac and Malia held onto Harper's arms as they began to gently guide her back to the bunker, away from the tunnel that she couldn't stop staring into. She realised that she seemed somewhat insane, but she didn't care. Stiles had been right there, she had felt him and seen him.

Scott moved to shut the door when a hand blocked it, making him jump. "Liam!" He gasped as the beta slipped inside. "You're still here."

"There's something you need to see," Liam urged them all. "And everyone else is gone. All of them, they're all gone. Look, you have to come with me."

"What is it?" Isaac asked.

"I can't explain it, I have to show you," Liam began to back up, "come on."

Scott nodded, "Isaac, come with me. You three stay here, just in case."

"In case Stiles comes back?" Malia questioned doubtfully, causing Harper to blink from where she was watching the ground, somewhat motionless.

"If there's any hope, you need to keep trying," Scott reminded them, hesitantly looking over to the shortest girl. "Harper, don't give up on him or yourself."

She lifted her chin high, soaking up his words with a nod. "Never."

As soon as the two werewolves had left with Liam, Harper moved to the back door and opened it, Malia right behind her. They smirked slightly at each other, knowing full well they weren't going to just wait around while the boys did all of the hard work.

"What are you two doing?" Lydia murmured, "Scott told us to stay here in case Stiles comes back."

"He's not going to come back here," Harper shook her head, "Stiles has never been here in his life."

Malia nodded, "if he was, he would of, and he hasn't, so he's not. Harper knows that she saw him, she knows that Stiles is out there. So what are we doing standing here?"

"We need to find him," Harper spoke determinedly, smiling a little when she saw Lydia nod along with the idea.

The three girls left the bunker and began to jog down the tunnel, ready to find Stiles.

The first place they went looking for the Stilinski boy was the school carpark where his jeep was. It was where he been taken, so Harper guessed that it made sense for him to turn back up there. Once they'd arrived, Harper's heart almost fell out of her throat at the sight of an empty space where his car had been.

Lydia bent down, inspecting the marks on the road. "These seem fresh."

"It's from Stiles' jeep, he must have just left," Malia realised.

"Without his keys?" The Banshee questioned pessimistically.

Harper scoffed, "that boy could get the jeep working with a screwdriver when he needed to. So if Stiles is back then we need to tell Scott, he can help look for him."

Malia grabbed Lydia, pulling her up off of the ground. "Then we should probably tell Scott about that too."

Harper's eyes widened at the sight of train tracks heading into the school having appeared out of nowhere. The three girls began to approach them, looking back. They were all over the place, leading Harper to wonder what the hell had happened while they were in that bunker.

..

"There's no stopping the Wild Hunt," Douglas smirked towards Scott, Isaac and Liam who stood at the other end of the corridor in the hospital, Parrish glowing from behind them. "You'll make a fine Ghost Rider, Scott. And I'll have a True Alpha by my side."

Scott ignored him, looking to the Hellhound. "Parrish, stop!" He yelled for the third time.

Parrish only growled in response, his neon green eyes focused on the teenagers as he began to grow closer, taking small, but threatening, strides.

"And then the last Empath in the world, a Banshee, a werecoyote-"

"A Stiles!" A very familiar voice rang out before Douglas was smacked over the head by a bat, causing him to clatter to the floor.

Scott glanced up in surprise, shocked to find Stiles stood there holding his signature weapon. The boy in plaid looked down at the body on the floor, stepping over him.

"Bad guy, right?" Stiles asked, "I didn't misread that?" He listened as Douglas growled from the floor. "Oh, god!"

He began to rush towards his friends just as Scott and Isaac grabbed a hold of Parrish, lifting him into the air and throwing him. Stiles dodged Parrish by clinging to the wall as the Hellhound was smashed into Douglas, sending them both back down.

The hazel-eyed boy dropped his bat as he looked back towards his friends, particularly Scott. He gasped happily, running over the tracks and wrapping his arms around his body. Scott hugged back as tight as he could without crushing him, both chuckling happily.

"Oh, man, it's so good to see you," his eyes cast over to Isaac who was also smiling, "I even missed you, scarf-boy."

He gave Isaac a tight hug, just as Liam began to smack on his shoulders, "hey, hey!"

"Liam!" Stiles pulled away, squeezing the life out of the sophomore boy this time who hugged him back for a moment, "it's so good to see you too!"

"Yeah, yeah, it's great to see you, Stiles, but uh--" He pointed behind the Stilinski boy, causing him to turn.

They gaped at the sight of the Hellhound on fire, this time a mixture of green and red. He roared as Stiles insisted that they leave, patting his friends to run. They took off as Parrish threw the ball of fire, roaring ferociously.

Stiles was back, but the Wild Hunt wasn't over yet.

...

They peeled back the library doors, revealing the waiting room of a train station. Harper looked around at all of the frozen figures, wondering what the hell was going on here. She must have spoken out loud because Lydia replied.

"There's a train station in the Wild Hunt."

Malia mumbled, "any chance they're connected?"

"I would say high," Lydia snapped as she walked inside, staring at everyone. "Like one hundred percent!"

Harper and Malia followed.

"If there's a train station, then there's gotta be a train, right?" Harper asked, "and I'm just gonna assume that that train leads to the Wild Hunt."

"They're all going to be taken," Malia realised, eyes wide.

"They can't get on that train," Lydia agreed frantically.

Harper paced around to some benches, snapping her fingers in front of an old woman's face. She didn't even flinch, she just continued to stare forwards unblinking as if in some sort of trance. The brunette glanced up to see Malia backing to a space.

"Okay," the werecoyote yelled, "listen up, everybody! We've all got to get out of here." She clapped her hands together. "We've got to go right now." She paused, looking around at all of the blank faces. "It's bad! We have to go!"

"Hello?" Lydia yelled in a woman's face.

Harper began to shake a man's shoulder, "excuse me? Sir?"

Malia huffed, "how do we get them to leave if they can't hear us?"

Harper's shoulder sagged in defeat, ready to suggest that they called the boys when her eyes landed on a familiar face sat among everybody else. She cleared her throat, slightly shocked to see Peter Hale sat there, his blue eyes focused on the jeans he was wearing.

"Malia?" She called, "you might want to look at this."

The werecoyote's brows furrowed at the sight of her father sat there and she leaned forward, screaming his name right in his face. She began to click her fingers in front of him, yelling his name one more time. Peter didn't even blink.

"Malia," Lydia sighed, "the only way to get through to the Hunt is with an emotional connection."

"Dang," the tallest teenage girl muttered, "wish I could help." She watched as the two girls stared back at her with knowing looks. "I'm not saying it. I'm not saying it."

"Please," Harper begged, "please, we have to save everyone. You have to save everyone, Malia."

The Empath could feel Malia's guard breaking down as the werecoyote growled under her breath, turning back around to face Peter. She closed her eyes momentarily and hesitated before she said, "dad."

"Say it like you mean it," Lydia interjected.

Malia stared at the banshee for a second before she nodded and turned back around. She crouched down in front of the man, taking a deep breath.

"Dad?" The werecoyote called softly this time. "Please wake up. Dad."

Peter's hands moved from his thighs, making Lydia and Harper glance at each other hopefully. They observed as the former-alpha slowly stood, his face unmoving until his eyes met Malia's. It was like he melted back into humanity, his blue eyes regaining emotion.

A sudden tightness on Harper's wrist made her gasp out in pain. She turned her back to the scene, not wanting to ruin the little moment that the father and daughter were having. Looking down at the soft skin, her lips parted in shock at the mark that went around it.

Another grunt escaped her lips when she felt her back hit against something, the breath momentarily being knocked from her lungs. Lydia stared at her in confusion, her hand moving to ghost over Harper's shoulder.

"Are you connected to someone?" The banshee asked.

Harper closed her eyes, concentrating on the pain to find out who it was. Her heart skipped a beat and she opened her eyes again, gasping his name.

"Stiles."

...

While Lydia and Malia worked to convince Peter to help them save everybody in the train station, Harper quickly left the library to search for her boyfriend who she had yet to see. She moved quickly down the halls, her dark eyes looking everywhere for the boy that she knew was in this building.

"Stiles?" She yelled as she moved down a different hallway, sighing at its empty state.

The brunette raced down it, coming to a skidding halt when she heard a loud thump and the sound of a body squealing against the floor. Harper bound towards the staircase, her heart pounding when she saw Scott laying on the floor and a rift close.

"Scott?" She gasped, running up the stairs and helping him up.

Her friend held onto her as he climbed to his feet, his eyes wide when he realised that it was her there.

"Harper, Stiles is back," he grinned at her, watching as her eyes lit up although she already knew that. "He was helping Isaac and me, but then we got hit by Ghost Riders."

"I know," she held out her wrist, showing the line that she realised must be a whip mark.

"Guys," Isaac came running down the stairs, panting. "You'll never guess where I ended up. The girls' locker room! Not that different from the boys' one though, so kind of disappointing."

Harper rolled her eyes in amusement, a small smile tugging at her rosy lips. Before she could reply, a very familiar voice rung out, making her freeze up.

"Scott?" Stiles yelled from down the hall, his feet slapping against the floor as he ran. "Scotty? Isaac?"

The brunette turned from her friends, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes as Stiles came bounding around the corner, skidding to a stop upon seeing the three figures at the top of the staircase. He began to smile at the sight of Scott and Isaac- until his eyes landed on the third person.

Stiles' breath hitched at the sight of Harper  
Stiles' breath hitched at the sight of Harper. He watched with wide eyes as she turned to fully face him, taking in all of her beauty. She looked just a shocked as he did, her eyes large and her lips parted. His chest heaved, not only from the run over but from the overwhelming feeling he got in his heart at the sight of her.

Tears filled his eyes. "Oh thank god," he breathed, and that was all it took for Harper to run down the seven stairs separating them.

His arms wrapped around her body, holding her as tightly as he physically could. Harper sniffled happy tears, her dainty hands scrambling for the back of his plaid shirt that he had been wearing since he had been taken. Stiles even smelt the same, he hugged the same, he looked the same. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, making her heart flutter.

"S-Stiles," Harper cried as they pulled each other away, but only at arm's length. "I never gave you my answer-"

"Harper, you didn't have to," he shook his head, pulling her closer. "I know," he whispered against her lips.

His hands tangled with her brown locks as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their lips working together like two jigsaw pieces. Every time their noses would brush Harper could feel her heart jolt a little more. Stiles wanted to deepen the kiss, desperate to feel her against him, but he knew deep down know wasn't the time. No matter how much he wanted it to be.

Harper pulled away, her lips rosy and her eyes shining brighter than they had in three months.

"Rose," she whispered, making his brows furrow in confusion.

"What?" Stiles murmured, the backs of his slender fingers stroking her cheek still.

Harper released a teary chuckle, "you said I would get to name our first kid. If it's a girl- Rose. I want to name her after my grandma."

The brunette watched as Stiles' eyes lit up with adoration, one of the biggest grins Harper had ever seen taking over his face. Her ears perked as he laughed blissfully and wholeheartedly, grabbing her face tighter and smashing his lips against hers once again.

"I love that name," he pressed his forehead to hers once they were done. "I love it. I love it so much."

"I love you," Harper whispered, her hand tugging on the collar of his plaid shirt to pull him down into another tight hug.

Isaac cleared his throat, causing the couple to both roll their eyes and turn back to the two werewolves. Stiles' hands left Harper's shoulder, but his hand moved to clasp her smaller one tightly, their fingers intertwining.

"As cute as your little reunion is-"

"I'm still crying," Scott admitted, running a hand under his eye that made Harper and Stiles chuckle lightly.

"The worlds are still collapsing in on each other," Isaac finished, shooting Scott an annoyed glance.

"Attention all passengers, the train will be leaving in eleven minutes," a monotone voice called out through the intercom, making their eyes widen.

"We gotta get back to the diverter," Scott insisted.

Harper nodded, although she wasn't exactly sure what that meant. They could explain it on the way. Stiles grabbed her hand even tighter and the four teenagers took off in the direction of the double doors at the end of the hall.

However, as they pushed through the doors, yells escaped all of their lips as they were sucked through yet another rift, all ending up back in different locations inside the school.

Harper groaned from where she found herself on the floor of an art classroom, rolling her eyes at how fitting it was for her. She climbed up off of the cool ground, looking around the dark room. Nobody was around and it was dead silent, giving her bad vibes.

"Hello?" She called, her voice low.

There was no response so she headed for the door, her eyes widening at the sight of a Ghost Rider stood at the end of the hall. She exhaled loudly, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing herself back against the wall, praying that it hadn't seen her.

Harper heard Stiles yell Harper's name and her heart jumped in her chest. Without thinking too much, the brunette ducked and ran out of the door, heading straight into another hallway. A gunshot went off but she kept running as fast as her short legs would take her. She heard the Ghost Rider's heavy footsteps move into the hall she was in and another bullet went flying.

Harper shrieked as it barely missed her, lodging into the end of the hall and releasing a green mist. She heard Stiles yell Harper's name once again and realised that it was coming from the next hall over. She raced down the steps, her body colliding with someone else.

A pair of strong hands gripped her arms, preventing her from falling backwards. Harper exhaled in relief at the sight of Stiles, who sent her a smile from where he held her. Before he could make some witty remark about how she had fallen for him, his eyes cast behind her at a dark figure stood pointing a gun directly at the couple.

Stiles' breath hitched in his throat, lifting Harper so that she was placed right behind him. He felt her hand move down to clasp his hand, refusing to let him go again.

"Stiles..." Harper breathed, her tone becoming a home for anxiety.

"Harper," Stiles warned lowly, squeezing her hand. "I love you."

The Stilinski boy scrunched his eyes shut as the Ghost Rider's finger hovered over the trigger. Harper pushed him out of the way just as a deafening scream came from the doorway, knocking the creature right to the ground unconscious.

Stiles looked up from where he had stumbled to after Harper had shoved him out of the way, eyes wide when he saw Lydia stood there with her hands outstretched. The Empath released a sigh of relief, thankful they weren't about to be taken by the Wild Hunt when they were so close to ending it.

"Lydia," he squeezed her into a small hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

The strawberry blonde smiled as she patted his back, pulling away. "Good to have you back, Stiles."

"Good to be back," he replied before looking to his girlfriend. His eyes narrowed and he pointed an accusing finger. "But when this whole thing blows over, we're talking about what you just did."

"What I just did?" Harper asked in amusement.

Stiles scoffed, "pushing me out of the way to take the hit."

Rolling her eyes, the banshee released a sigh. "Well, she didn't get hurt, and now we have bigger problems to deal with, so..."

"Right," Harper confirmed with a nod, "let's go find Scott and Isaac."

"Let's go," Stiles reached down and grabbed her hand, their fingers intertwining.

The couple ran down the hall, Lydia right behind them as they tried for the second time to get out of the exit. Lydia put her hands on the door to push them open when a voice called out from down the hallway, echoing.

"Stiles," they all recognised it as Claudia Stilinski, Stiles' face going slack with shock as he froze in his path, his eyes searching for her. "Stiles is that you?"

"Mom," the teenage boy whispered, starting to move closer.

Harper felt her heartache, despising the fact that she was going to have to be the one to tell him that his mother wasn't really there. She knew how much he missed that woman, so she could only imagine what was going through his head right now.

She pulled him back by his hand slightly, causing him to glance down at her with furrowed brows.

"Stiles, it's not real," she whispered, shaking her head, causing his frown to deepen. "The Wild Hunt brought her back, but that's not really your mum."

"What do you mean 'brought her back'?" Stiles murmured just as the woman stepped into the hallway, causing him to look up.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of his mother. She looked exactly how he remembered her before she had got sick, her brown hair long and neat, her skin glowing and her eyes as kind as ever. She was smiling sweetly at him, causing tears to well up in his eyes.

"I know what you've been through," 'Claudia' sympathised, "I know how much you love your father."

Stiles took a step closer, wondering where she was going with what she was saying. Thunder suddenly rumbled from outside, followed by a quick flash of lightning. As the hallway lit up, Claudia's face changed, revealing a Ghost Rider instead.

"But I love him more," her voice changed distorted and deep, her features no longer recognisable as she sneered, "even from the Hunt, you somehow wormed your way back into his memory."

The hazel-eyed boy nodded, "yeah, worming's one of my skills."

Lydia stepped forward, placing her hand on Harper's arm as she warned Stiles, "that thing was conjured from your dad's pain. If he remembers you, he can't believe in her."

"That's why you have to go," the Ghost Rider/Claudia agreed, her hand thrashing to the side to knock Lydia down.

Harper gasped when she felt a hand wrap around her throat, lifting her tiny frame slightly off of the ground. Anger pumped through Stiles' veins as he quickly scrambled to get her to release Harper, only for the other hand to wrap around his neck, making the both of them choke.

"That's no way to treat your mother," the Ghost Rider mocked.

Stiles wheezed, "you're not my mother."

She moved down the hall, slamming both the teenagers into one of the walls. Harper whimpered in pain as her head knocked into it hard, the hand around her neck releasing her to she slumped down. She remained by Stiles' legs, her vision blurring and making everything feel disorientated.

The sound of Stiles' choking to death while the Ghost Rider mocked him made her try to stand, only for another wave of dizziness to hit her. She had nobody in the hallway that was okay to connect to, even Lydia was barely standing, trying to get up.

"He believes in me," Ghost Rider/Claudia continued mocking, "dreams. So hard to kill."

"But not impossible," a voice growled before a gunshot went off, impaling the Ghost Rider.

She didn't even flinch, just shook her head. "Noah. Your bullets can't hurt me."

Lydia stumbled over, "fire again."

Harper used all of the force she had left in her to kick the Ghost Rider back, away from Stiles who quickly feel down next to her, coughing as he moved his hands to his neck. Lydia screamed as another gunshot went off, her abilities causing it to hit the Ghost Rider and this time make her disappear.

Harper and Stiles clung onto each other from the floor as the whole building suddenly began to rumble, the shrieks of horses filling their ears. They were looking up at the ceiling frantically, trying to find the cause but seeing nothing. Sheriff Stilinski kept Lydia up right at the end of the hall, waiting until it was over.

As soon as the shaking dissolved, the two teenagers slowly released their tight grips on one another, their foreheads touching. Harper closed her eyes, feeling utter relief feel her body.

"I think it's over," Stiles whispered, his breath hitting her face.

She glanced up at him and smiled before her lips were quickly captured in his. The brunette's hands went to hold his face, his hands underneath her hair as he held her tight. Their eyes had flickered closed a while ago, their hearts pounding out of their chests.

Harper had Stiles back.

The Wild Hunt was finished.


	14. Chapter 14

It was the first weekend of May and for some reason the mall was packed. Harper, Lydia and Malia sat around in a coffee shop, glancing out of the window as dozens of teenagers walked around, bags looped through their arms while they chattered away to their friends.

The Empath raised her eyebrows at a girl she recognised from her maths class seemingly having a breakdown over something in her Macy's bag.

"It's so busy today..." She noted, peeling her eyes from the ocean of bodies and back to the quiet cafe they'd chosen to stop and eat in.

Malia nodded in agreement, lifting her muffin up to her lips and taking one of the biggest bites Harper had ever seen. She chuckled at her friend as the werecoyote's cheeks began to fill up like chipmunks would. Lydia rolled her forest eyes in amusement, grabbing a napkin from the table and handing it to Malia.

"Wonder why," the strawberry blonde mused, starting to stir her scolding drink with her spoon. Lydia dipped her finger into some of the whipped cream, licking it off.

Harper shrugged back, absentmindedly scrolling through her emails. The three girls had decided to go on a shopping trip that weekend since the boys were all busy and they had nothing better to do.

The Wild Hunt had only been over for about a month now, and nobody in Beacon Hills, apart from the pack, of course, could remember it. Everything had just gone back to how it was before.

The brunette took a sip of her coffee just as her eyes landed on an email from the school. Her brows furrowed together and she clicked on it, her eyes bulging at the attachment that had popped straight up in bold, maroon lettering.

'LAST CHANCE TO BUY TICKETS FOR SENIOR PROM'.

Harper started to choke on her coffee, Lydia quickly patting her back until it went down. She coughed, clearing her throat as she shoved her phone in the faces of her friends. Malia read the screen slowly, not seeming too bothered about what it said, however, Lydia gasped loudly, catching the attention of a few customers sitting around them.

"We forgot about senior prom!" Lydia hissed, slapping on her friends' arms for their attention.

Harper's face had pulled down into a frown, "that's why it's so busy; everybody's shopping for their dresses and suits."

"What's the big deal?" Malia groaned, rolling her dark eyes. "It's just a dance."

"The last one we'll ever have," Lydia huffed, wearing an annoyed expression when she saw how out of touch the were-coyote was. "This is a really big deal, okay? We missed the junior one because of the supernatural, we are not missing senior prom."

"I don't think the boys have even remembered," the Empath sighed as she turned her head back out of the window, watching a couple of senior girls sit on a bench and pull out the longest heels she had ever seen.

Malia shook her head, "it's probably just slipped past their heads like it did ours."

Surprisingly, the girls couldn't be more wrong. In fact, back in at the McCall household, it looked as if a bomb had gone off on the kitchen table.

"Do you think she'll even want to go with me?" Isaac pestered Scott and Stiles for the hundredth time that afternoon, peering over the Stilinski boy's shoulder.

He was cutting some golden card out in the shape of a star, but it looked terribly wonky. Scott was attempting bubble writing on a separate piece of paper, helping his best friend since Stiles had insisted that two pairs of hands were quicker than one.

In their case, Isaac would have liked to beg to differ. These boys had fought of Alpha packs, gotten possessed by demons, survived a Deadpool, but they couldn't even work around scissors and pens.

"Yes, okay?" Stiles groaned, "I'm sure Malia would love to go to prom with you."

"But we broke up like ten months ago now-"

"Yes! One word done!" Scott grinned proudly, holding up a sheet of paper that read 'HARPER'.

The hazel-eyed boy peered at it, his mouth dropping open slightly at the sight. Scott didn't have good handwriting, he couldn't draw- and it turned out he was rubbish at bubble writing too.

The 'R's had turned out all wonky, and Scott had appeared to of run out of space at the end, the 'ER' all squashed up.

"I can't use that!" Stiles panicked, reaching forward and tearing it up so he no longer had to look at it. "It looks like a second grader wrote it."

"Actually, I think a second grader would have done better," Isaac muttered under his breath, watching as Scott's grin twisted into an offended look.

"Oh yeah?" The werewolf challenged, holding up the star that Stiles had been working on for the past half an hour. "I'm sure Harper's gonna love this. What is it again? Cause it looks like a lab experiment gone wrong."

Glaring at Scott, Stiles reached forward and grabbed the star. "Give that back to me," he grumbled, looking down at his creation sadly. "I don't know why I even try doing a cute promposal."

"Cause last year all of the seniors were doing it and Harper said it was cute?" Isaac reminded him.

Stiles lifted his head up from where it had dropped into his arms, shooting the Lahey boy a look. "Yeah, that was rhetorical, thank you."

"You're welcome," Isaac sent him a fake, sneering smile.

"Yep, and that was sarcasm."

"So was that."

"Guys," Scott cut in, knowing their bickering wouldn't end unless someone forced them to.

The three boys sat in silence for a few moments, staring around at all of the glitter and paper that had been thrown across the McCall table top. Scott picked up the star again, staring at it with a thoughtful look.

"What is it with stars anyway?" He asked, "I mean, I know she has them on her bedroom ceiling and stuff, and she has that necklace that has one on it-"

"And she draws them literally all of the time," Isaac added.

Stiles thought for a few seconds, his bottom lip pouting when he realised he didn't know why his girlfriend admired stars so much. He remembered when he helped her buy paint for her ceiling, he'd asked her why she wanted to do stars and she'd hesitated and said 'because they're pretty'.

He'd always figured that there had to be some bigger reason, but never really thought to push it out of her.

"I don't know," he sighed, pushing the paper surrounding him away. "But I do know that I give up trying to make one for her."

"Too bad you can't give her a real one," Scott joked, tossing the star back onto the table.

"A real what?" A voice asked, causing all three teenage boys to jump up. They relaxed at the sight of Melissa who was putting the groceries on the kitchen side, starting to unpack.

"Star," Stiles grumbled, relaxing when he realised Harper hadn't come home early.

Melissa raised her eyebrows, "yes you can."

Scott scoffed, "mum, I don't think you can get a star-"

"Not to physically hand to her, idiot," Melissa cut her son off, rolling her eyes as she ditched the grocery bags, walking over to the laptop that Stiles had left out with a picture of a star on that he could copy. "Look at this."

She typed in a website, the three teenage boys crowding around eagerly to see what she was talking about. Stiles' eyes widened when he realised what he was talking about, a grin covering his face.

"Step aside, boys. I'm about to do the best promposal anybody has ever seen."

...

Harper closed the door to her locker, jumping when she realised somebody was leaning up against the one next to hers. She sent Lydia a sneering smile, causing the strawberry blonde to huff and roll her eyes.

"He still hasn't asked you yet?" The strawberry blonde guessed, turning her head down the hall where Stiles, Isaac and Scott were all bickering quietly.

The brunette huffed, nodding, "I don't get it. We've been dating for over two years and prom is in less than three weeks. What the hell is he waiting for?"

Lydia held a knowing look, causing Harper to squint at her suspiciously. Before she could ask, their other friend wandered over. For the past couple of days, it had been like the girls and boys had been a little divided, which Harper felt really strange about. Her entire life she had grown up with Scott and Stiles as her best friends, and then she'd go off with Lydia and Allison on the odd occasion.

"Maybe he doesn't want to go," Malia suggested, clutching some maths textbooks in her arms. "Or he's waiting for you to ask."

"No way," Harper folded her arms against her chest, absentmindedly frowning. "I am not asking him to senior prom, I already asked him to the winter formal. It's his turn."

"Well, he basically asked you to marry him before the Wild Hunt, so maybe it is your turn," Malia huffed.

"He's coming this way, shut up," Lydia hissed excitedly, slapping Malia and Harper's arms to get their attention.

The three boys were wondering over, radiating nervousness- well, mainly Isaac. Harper bit her lip when she realised that Stiles wasn't coming over to ask her to prom. She watched as the beta werewolf reached behind his back and produced a rose, handing it to Malia who raised her eyebrows at it.

"I- I know prom isn't really your thing, and neither am I anymore, but maybe you'd like to go with me? As friends?" Isaac added quickly.

The Empath felt the adoration burn off of Malia, but surprisingly the werecoyote held a straight face. She knew that the ex-couple still had feelings for each other, but they decided to make things complicated for themselves by being so stubborn.

"I don't want to go with you as friends," Malia replied bluntly, watching as Isaac's face dropped.

Lydia shot Malia a small glare. She'd already bought Malia a dress and some heels and made her promise that if Isaac asked, she'd say yes. The Banshee had made sure that both her best friends would be attending prom with her.

Isaac scratched the back of his neck as he began to stammer, "O-oh, well, I-"

"I want you to go as my boyfriend," Malia cut him off boldly, a grin crossing Harper's face when she saw how stunned the werewolf looked.

Isaac practically choked on the air surrounding him as he nodded quickly, "that- that works too."

Scott was smiling at his friends, holding the straps of his backpack as he turned to Lydia. "And you, my dear friend, would you like to-"

"Sure," Lydia chirped, "but definitely not as my boyfriend."

Scott snickered, "that is definitely fine by me."

"Just so you know, I expect that you wear a suit that is not from a thrift shop, like at the winter formal," the banshee began, grabbing a notepad as she started writing some more instructions down for Scott who listened intently.

Harper smiled at all of her friends, turning to face Stiles who was already watching her. He moved forward and grabbed her hand, spacing it out and placing something inside it. His slender fingers gently curled her hand back into a fist.

"Read it when you get home," Stiles whispered, a hand on her waist as he pulled her close to him, leaning down so that their faces were almost touching.

Her smile widened a little, leaning up so that their lips brushed. Stiles kissed back for a couple of seconds until the school bell rang, making them jump apart.

"Bye," she murmured. "I love you."

"I love you."

...

Harper exhaled loudly from the hallway as she examined herself in the mirror, picking apart the outfit that she had put on.

Her heavy release of breath caught the attention of Scott, Isaac and Malia who were sat in the living room, watching the television. The werecoyote snuggled closer into her boyfriend's side, furrowing her brows as they saw Harper tuck some of her hair behind her ears.

"I don't get it," Malia muttered quietly to the two supernatural boys. "They've been dating for over two years... Shouldn't they of stopped all of the couple-y traditions by now?"

Isaac chuckled, shaking his head. "Romance doesn't die after two years, Mal. Especially when you're younger."

"Oh," the tall girl stretched out her limbs absentmindedly, a yawn escaping her lips. "So like three more years until they can't stand the sight of each other?"

Scott's gaze didn't tear from his best friend, her chemosignals radiating excitement and nervousness. He shook his head at Malia, a smile taking over his face.

"No, no..." He disagreed, "Stiles and Harper aren't like that. They're different."

"Because they've been through all of this together?" Isaac guessed.

"Because they're soulmates," Scott replied fondly, recalling the first time Stiles had laid eyes on Harper.

He'd immediately stuck a glue stick in Scott's hair to get her attention, and it had worked. Scott knew from the moment she sat down beside them that she was going to mean a lot to Stiles, and vice versa.

Harper jumped when the doorbell suddenly rang, sending herself one last smile in the mirror before darting towards the door. She opened it quickly, her hand quickly clasping over her mouth at the sight of Stiles stood there with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

He grinned straight back at her, his hazel eyes softening as he scanned her appearance. She was wearing the mustard yellow sundress that he adored her in and a denim jacket was over her shoulders, keeping her tan skin warm.

"For me?" Harper's teeth caught her bottom lip, trying to contain her smile.

"No, for Scott," Stiles teased.

Harper chuckled before calling over her shoulder, "Scotty, Stiles bought something for you."

Stiles rolled his eyes in amusement as the werewolf came running, eager to find his present. His eyes landed on the roses and he raised his brows.

"I don't swing that way, dude..." Scott joked in a serious tone, causing the three friends to snicker.

"Just put these in some water, please," Harper took the roses from Stiles' hands and handed them to her best friend who nodded with a smile.

Harper tucked some of her hair behind her ear and took a step out of the door, accepting the hand that her boyfriend was holding out to her. Stiles intertwined their fingers, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"You look beautiful," he murmured sweetly, eyes clouded by adoration.

The Empath felt like her heart had melted in her chest, grasping the black jacket he was wearing to pull him down to her height. Harper pressed her lips against his, feeling him smile against her immediately. She couldn't stop smiling either, their teeth clashing.

"Ah," Stiles laughed as he pulled away. "I can't kiss you right now, I can't stop smiling."

"Why's that, handsome?" Harper hummed, her hand still cupping his cheek as she brushed her thumb against it, feeling the skin beneath her heat up a little.

Stiles' hazel eyes burned into hers as he replied confidently, "maybe because I have the world's most beautiful girl in front of me right now and I'm really excited to show her what I have planned."

Before Harper could reply, somebody cleared their throat from behind them. The couple glanced away from where they had been absorbed in their own little bubble, finding Scott still stood there clasping the roses.

"Have her home by two, got it, Stilinski?" Scott warned, smiling at his lovesick best friends.

"Oh, she won't be coming home tonight," Stiles winked, immediately making the werewolf cringe and Harper laugh. 

...

Stiles parked the jeep in the middle of a field, much to Harper's surprise. She'd expected he was going to take her out for dinner or something, although she wasn't complaining. The brunette watched as the hazel-eyed boy slipped out of the driver's side of the jeep, rushing over to open her door for her.

Harper took his hand, smiling as he kissed it cheekily. "You're such a gentleman, Sti."

"Only the best for the best," he murmured, starting to feel a little nervous about what was about to happen.

Noticing this, the Empath silently pushed some relaxing energy into him. Stiles felt the soothing sensation run through his veins and sent her a grateful look. Harper shrugged at him as if it were no big deal, clasping his hand tighter as they moved to the back of the jeep.

His hands left hers to slip around her waist, pushing her back against the car. Stiles placed his lips to hers, listening to the sounds of crickets in the distance and her hands shuffling to hold him closer to her body. The warm air clung to them as Stiles pulled away, giving her one more quick peck.

"Turn around," he whispered.

Harper raised her eyebrows but turned, feeling his large hands rest on her hips. Suddenly she was being lifted into the air, causing her to laugh childishly. Stiles lifted Harper to the top of the jeep which she gripped tightly, pulling her body onto it. She peered down at him, cheeks flushed from excitement.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip to contain his grin as he stepped up onto the edge of the jeep, his head peering over the top. He kissed her yet again before hauling his body onto it, right beside her.

"What are we doing?" Harper murmured as Stiles shuffled so he was half-laying, propping himself up on his elbows.

He didn't verbally reply but patted the space beside him. Harper tucked herself into his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. She glanced up at the dark sky, her breath almost hitching at the sight.

Stars of all different light intensities twinkled back, the brightest one catching her attention like always. It was as if every time she saw a night sky, her subconscious would always force her to look for the one sparkling the most, just as Rose Verum had instructed her to do.

Harper sniffled, "I don't want you to die. I don't want you to leave me behind."

Her grandma stroked her hands through Harper's hair. "When I am gone and you are feeling sad, I want you to look up at the sky at night time. Look at the stars. The brightest one out there, that will be me. Okay? That will be me looking down at you and smiling."

"What are you thinking about?" Stiles asked as he stroked her arm with his thumb, although he already had an idea. He had seen the way she had gazed at the stars as if they were home.

Harper shifted to look at him, tearing her eyes from the sky. She looked into his eyes, finding herself just as blown away by them as the beaming lights above.

"My grandma," she whispered, "how I hope she's proud of me right now. Of us."

"I'm sure she is," Stiles replied, thinking back to what Lydia had told him about why Harper loved stars so much.

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple before shuffling off the jeep. Harper watched with furrowed eyebrows as he climbed inside, pulling something back out.

"Close your eyes," he ordered, his voice slightly muffled as he pulled himself back up onto the roof. "Hold your hands out."

Harper did as she was told, a small smile on her face when she felt a piece of card get placed into her hands. She heard him whisper for her to open her eyes and did so. Harper's brown eyes read the certificate in her hands and she gasped quietly.

He'd named a star 'ROSE' for her, and on the side was an astrology map that told her which one it was. She immediately looked back up to the sky.

"Here," Stiles murmured, his cheek pressed against her cheek as he clasped her hand and lifted it to point where he was looking. "The brightest star in the sky."

The brunette's eyes welled with tears as she glanced back at her boyfriend, their noses automatically brushing. She kissed him hard, the salty tears falling and mixing with their lips that pushed against each other slowly. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away another tear as it fell.

"Do you like it?" Stiles whispered nervously as they pulled away, foreheads still touching.

Harper nodded quickly, "I love it. I love you."

She tackled him into a hug, the jeep creaking underneath the weight as he fell backwards. They both chuckled, their lips catching for the hundredth time that night. She held his cheeks, pulling him as close as she possibly could with the certificate between their bodies.

"I love you too," Stiles promised quietly, pushing some fallen hair out of her face as she hovered above him. "I was gonna name two binary stars after us and then ask you to prom, but when Lydia told me what the stars meant to you I thought I'd so something more meaningful."

Harper nodded quickly to show she appreciated the gesture, placing her head down on his chest, her body relaxing against his as he began to stroke her hair, his slender fingers gliding through the beach waves soothingly.

"Will you be my date to senior prom?" He asked after a while of staring at the stars- particularly Rose's one.

"I'd love nothing more than that, Mieczysław."


	15. Chapter 15

It was the first weekend of May and for some reason the mall was packed. Harper, Lydia and Malia sat around in a coffee shop, glancing out of the window as dozens of teenagers walked around, bags looped through their arms while they chattered away to their friends.

The Empath raised her eyebrows at a girl she recognised from her maths class seemingly having a breakdown over something in her Macy's bag.

"It's so busy today..." She noted, peeling her eyes from the ocean of bodies and back to the quiet cafe they'd chosen to stop and eat in.

Malia nodded in agreement, lifting her muffin up to her lips and taking one of the biggest bites Harper had ever seen. She chuckled at her friend as the werecoyote's cheeks began to fill up like chipmunks would. Lydia rolled her forest eyes in amusement, grabbing a napkin from the table and handing it to Malia.

"Wonder why," the strawberry blonde mused, starting to stir her scolding drink with her spoon. Lydia dipped her finger into some of the whipped cream, licking it off.

Harper shrugged back, absentmindedly scrolling through her emails. The three girls had decided to go on a shopping trip that weekend since the boys were all busy and they had nothing better to do.

The Wild Hunt had only been over for about a month now, and nobody in Beacon Hills, apart from the pack, of course, could remember it. Everything had just gone back to how it was before.

The brunette took a sip of her coffee just as her eyes landed on an email from the school. Her brows furrowed together and she clicked on it, her eyes bulging at the attachment that had popped straight up in bold, maroon lettering.

'LAST CHANCE TO BUY TICKETS FOR SENIOR PROM'.

Harper started to choke on her coffee, Lydia quickly patting her back until it went down. She coughed, clearing her throat as she shoved her phone in the faces of her friends. Malia read the screen slowly, not seeming too bothered about what it said, however, Lydia gasped loudly, catching the attention of a few customers sitting around them.

"We forgot about senior prom!" Lydia hissed, slapping on her friends' arms for their attention.

Harper's face had pulled down into a frown, "that's why it's so busy; everybody's shopping for their dresses and suits."

"What's the big deal?" Malia groaned, rolling her dark eyes. "It's just a dance."

"The last one we'll ever have," Lydia huffed, wearing an annoyed expression when she saw how out of touch the were-coyote was. "This is a really big deal, okay? We missed the junior one because of the supernatural, we are not missing senior prom."

"I don't think the boys have even remembered," the Empath sighed as she turned her head back out of the window, watching a couple of senior girls sit on a bench and pull out the longest heels she had ever seen.

Malia shook her head, "it's probably just slipped past their heads like it did ours."

Surprisingly, the girls couldn't be more wrong. In fact, back in at the McCall household, it looked as if a bomb had gone off on the kitchen table.

"Do you think she'll even want to go with me?" Isaac pestered Scott and Stiles for the hundredth time that afternoon, peering over the Stilinski boy's shoulder.

He was cutting some golden card out in the shape of a star, but it looked terribly wonky. Scott was attempting bubble writing on a separate piece of paper, helping his best friend since Stiles had insisted that two pairs of hands were quicker than one.

In their case, Isaac would have liked to beg to differ. These boys had fought of Alpha packs, gotten possessed by demons, survived a Deadpool, but they couldn't even work around scissors and pens.

"Yes, okay?" Stiles groaned, "I'm sure Malia would love to go to prom with you."

"But we broke up like ten months ago now-"

"Yes! One word done!" Scott grinned proudly, holding up a sheet of paper that read 'HARPER'.

The hazel-eyed boy peered at it, his mouth dropping open slightly at the sight. Scott didn't have good handwriting, he couldn't draw- and it turned out he was rubbish at bubble writing too.

The 'R's had turned out all wonky, and Scott had appeared to of run out of space at the end, the 'ER' all squashed up.

"I can't use that!" Stiles panicked, reaching forward and tearing it up so he no longer had to look at it. "It looks like a second grader wrote it."

"Actually, I think a second grader would have done better," Isaac muttered under his breath, watching as Scott's grin twisted into an offended look.

"Oh yeah?" The werewolf challenged, holding up the star that Stiles had been working on for the past half an hour. "I'm sure Harper's gonna love this. What is it again? Cause it looks like a lab experiment gone wrong."

Glaring at Scott, Stiles reached forward and grabbed the star. "Give that back to me," he grumbled, looking down at his creation sadly. "I don't know why I even try doing a cute promposal."

"Cause last year all of the seniors were doing it and Harper said it was cute?" Isaac reminded him.

Stiles lifted his head up from where it had dropped into his arms, shooting the Lahey boy a look. "Yeah, that was rhetorical, thank you."

"You're welcome," Isaac sent him a fake, sneering smile.

"Yep, and that was sarcasm."

"So was that."

"Guys," Scott cut in, knowing their bickering wouldn't end unless someone forced them to.

The three boys sat in silence for a few moments, staring around at all of the glitter and paper that had been thrown across the McCall table top. Scott picked up the star again, staring at it with a thoughtful look.

"What is it with stars anyway?" He asked, "I mean, I know she has them on her bedroom ceiling and stuff, and she has that necklace that has one on it-"

"And she draws them literally all of the time," Isaac added.

Stiles thought for a few seconds, his bottom lip pouting when he realised he didn't know why his girlfriend admired stars so much. He remembered when he helped her buy paint for her ceiling, he'd asked her why she wanted to do stars and she'd hesitated and said 'because they're pretty'.

He'd always figured that there had to be some bigger reason, but never really thought to push it out of her.

"I don't know," he sighed, pushing the paper surrounding him away. "But I do know that I give up trying to make one for her."

"Too bad you can't give her a real one," Scott joked, tossing the star back onto the table.

"A real what?" A voice asked, causing all three teenage boys to jump up. They relaxed at the sight of Melissa who was putting the groceries on the kitchen side, starting to unpack.

"Star," Stiles grumbled, relaxing when he realised Harper hadn't come home early.

Melissa raised her eyebrows, "yes you can."

Scott scoffed, "mum, I don't think you can get a star-"

"Not to physically hand to her, idiot," Melissa cut her son off, rolling her eyes as she ditched the grocery bags, walking over to the laptop that Stiles had left out with a picture of a star on that he could copy. "Look at this."

She typed in a website, the three teenage boys crowding around eagerly to see what she was talking about. Stiles' eyes widened when he realised what he was talking about, a grin covering his face.

"Step aside, boys. I'm about to do the best promposal anybody has ever seen."

...

Harper closed the door to her locker, jumping when she realised somebody was leaning up against the one next to hers. She sent Lydia a sneering smile, causing the strawberry blonde to huff and roll her eyes.

"He still hasn't asked you yet?" The strawberry blonde guessed, turning her head down the hall where Stiles, Isaac and Scott were all bickering quietly.

The brunette huffed, nodding, "I don't get it. We've been dating for over two years and prom is in less than three weeks. What the hell is he waiting for?"

Lydia held a knowing look, causing Harper to squint at her suspiciously. Before she could ask, their other friend wandered over. For the past couple of days, it had been like the girls and boys had been a little divided, which Harper felt really strange about. Her entire life she had grown up with Scott and Stiles as her best friends, and then she'd go off with Lydia and Allison on the odd occasion.

"Maybe he doesn't want to go," Malia suggested, clutching some maths textbooks in her arms. "Or he's waiting for you to ask."

"No way," Harper folded her arms against her chest, absentmindedly frowning. "I am not asking him to senior prom, I already asked him to the winter formal. It's his turn."

"Well, he basically asked you to marry him before the Wild Hunt, so maybe it is your turn," Malia huffed.

"He's coming this way, shut up," Lydia hissed excitedly, slapping Malia and Harper's arms to get their attention.

The three boys were wondering over, radiating nervousness- well, mainly Isaac. Harper bit her lip when she realised that Stiles wasn't coming over to ask her to prom. She watched as the beta werewolf reached behind his back and produced a rose, handing it to Malia who raised her eyebrows at it.

"I- I know prom isn't really your thing, and neither am I anymore, but maybe you'd like to go with me? As friends?" Isaac added quickly.

The Empath felt the adoration burn off of Malia, but surprisingly the werecoyote held a straight face. She knew that the ex-couple still had feelings for each other, but they decided to make things complicated for themselves by being so stubborn.

"I don't want to go with you as friends," Malia replied bluntly, watching as Isaac's face dropped.

Lydia shot Malia a small glare. She'd already bought Malia a dress and some heels and made her promise that if Isaac asked, she'd say yes. The Banshee had made sure that both her best friends would be attending prom with her.

Isaac scratched the back of his neck as he began to stammer, "O-oh, well, I-"

"I want you to go as my boyfriend," Malia cut him off boldly, a grin crossing Harper's face when she saw how stunned the werewolf looked.

Isaac practically choked on the air surrounding him as he nodded quickly, "that- that works too."

Scott was smiling at his friends, holding the straps of his backpack as he turned to Lydia. "And you, my dear friend, would you like to-"

"Sure," Lydia chirped, "but definitely not as my boyfriend."

Scott snickered, "that is definitely fine by me."

"Just so you know, I expect that you wear a suit that is not from a thrift shop, like at the winter formal," the banshee began, grabbing a notepad as she started writing some more instructions down for Scott who listened intently.

Harper smiled at all of her friends, turning to face Stiles who was already watching her. He moved forward and grabbed her hand, spacing it out and placing something inside it. His slender fingers gently curled her hand back into a fist.

"Read it when you get home," Stiles whispered, a hand on her waist as he pulled her close to him, leaning down so that their faces were almost touching.

Her smile widened a little, leaning up so that their lips brushed. Stiles kissed back for a couple of seconds until the school bell rang, making them jump apart.

"Bye," she murmured. "I love you."

"I love you."

...

Harper exhaled loudly from the hallway as she examined herself in the mirror, picking apart the outfit that she had put on.

Her heavy release of breath caught the attention of Scott, Isaac and Malia who were sat in the living room, watching the television. The werecoyote snuggled closer into her boyfriend's side, furrowing her brows as they saw Harper tuck some of her hair behind her ears.

"I don't get it," Malia muttered quietly to the two supernatural boys. "They've been dating for over two years... Shouldn't they of stopped all of the couple-y traditions by now?"

Isaac chuckled, shaking his head. "Romance doesn't die after two years, Mal. Especially when you're younger."

"Oh," the tall girl stretched out her limbs absentmindedly, a yawn escaping her lips. "So like three more years until they can't stand the sight of each other?"

Scott's gaze didn't tear from his best friend, her chemosignals radiating excitement and nervousness. He shook his head at Malia, a smile taking over his face.

"No, no..." He disagreed, "Stiles and Harper aren't like that. They're different."

"Because they've been through all of this together?" Isaac guessed.

"Because they're soulmates," Scott replied fondly, recalling the first time Stiles had laid eyes on Harper.

He'd immediately stuck a glue stick in Scott's hair to get her attention, and it had worked. Scott knew from the moment she sat down beside them that she was going to mean a lot to Stiles, and vice versa.

Harper jumped when the doorbell suddenly rang, sending herself one last smile in the mirror before darting towards the door. She opened it quickly, her hand quickly clasping over her mouth at the sight of Stiles stood there with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

He grinned straight back at her, his hazel eyes softening as he scanned her appearance. She was wearing the mustard yellow sundress that he adored her in and a denim jacket was over her shoulders, keeping her tan skin warm.

"For me?" Harper's teeth caught her bottom lip, trying to contain her smile.

"No, for Scott," Stiles teased.

Harper chuckled before calling over her shoulder, "Scotty, Stiles bought something for you."

Stiles rolled his eyes in amusement as the werewolf came running, eager to find his present. His eyes landed on the roses and he raised his brows.

"I don't swing that way, dude..." Scott joked in a serious tone, causing the three friends to snicker.

"Just put these in some water, please," Harper took the roses from Stiles' hands and handed them to her best friend who nodded with a smile.

Harper tucked some of her hair behind her ear and took a step out of the door, accepting the hand that her boyfriend was holding out to her. Stiles intertwined their fingers, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"You look beautiful," he murmured sweetly, eyes clouded by adoration.

The Empath felt like her heart had melted in her chest, grasping the black jacket he was wearing to pull him down to her height. Harper pressed her lips against his, feeling him smile against her immediately. She couldn't stop smiling either, their teeth clashing.

"Ah," Stiles laughed as he pulled away. "I can't kiss you right now, I can't stop smiling."

"Why's that, handsome?" Harper hummed, her hand still cupping his cheek as she brushed her thumb against it, feeling the skin beneath her heat up a little.

Stiles' hazel eyes burned into hers as he replied confidently, "maybe because I have the world's most beautiful girl in front of me right now and I'm really excited to show her what I have planned."

Before Harper could reply, somebody cleared their throat from behind them. The couple glanced away from where they had been absorbed in their own little bubble, finding Scott still stood there clasping the roses.

"Have her home by two, got it, Stilinski?" Scott warned, smiling at his lovesick best friends.

"Oh, she won't be coming home tonight," Stiles winked, immediately making the werewolf cringe and Harper laugh. 

...

Stiles parked the jeep in the middle of a field, much to Harper's surprise. She'd expected he was going to take her out for dinner or something, although she wasn't complaining. The brunette watched as the hazel-eyed boy slipped out of the driver's side of the jeep, rushing over to open her door for her.

Harper took his hand, smiling as he kissed it cheekily. "You're such a gentleman, Sti."

"Only the best for the best," he murmured, starting to feel a little nervous about what was about to happen.

Noticing this, the Empath silently pushed some relaxing energy into him. Stiles felt the soothing sensation run through his veins and sent her a grateful look. Harper shrugged at him as if it were no big deal, clasping his hand tighter as they moved to the back of the jeep.

His hands left hers to slip around her waist, pushing her back against the car. Stiles placed his lips to hers, listening to the sounds of crickets in the distance and her hands shuffling to hold him closer to her body. The warm air clung to them as Stiles pulled away, giving her one more quick peck.

"Turn around," he whispered.

Harper raised her eyebrows but turned, feeling his large hands rest on her hips. Suddenly she was being lifted into the air, causing her to laugh childishly. Stiles lifted Harper to the top of the jeep which she gripped tightly, pulling her body onto it. She peered down at him, cheeks flushed from excitement.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip to contain his grin as he stepped up onto the edge of the jeep, his head peering over the top. He kissed her yet again before hauling his body onto it, right beside her.

"What are we doing?" Harper murmured as Stiles shuffled so he was half-laying, propping himself up on his elbows.

He didn't verbally reply but patted the space beside him. Harper tucked herself into his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. She glanced up at the dark sky, her breath almost hitching at the sight.

Stars of all different light intensities twinkled back, the brightest one catching her attention like always. It was as if every time she saw a night sky, her subconscious would always force her to look for the one sparkling the most, just as Rose Verum had instructed her to do.

Harper sniffled, "I don't want you to die. I don't want you to leave me behind."

Her grandma stroked her hands through Harper's hair. "When I am gone and you are feeling sad, I want you to look up at the sky at night time. Look at the stars. The brightest one out there, that will be me. Okay? That will be me looking down at you and smiling."

"What are you thinking about?" Stiles asked as he stroked her arm with his thumb, although he already had an idea. He had seen the way she had gazed at the stars as if they were home.

Harper shifted to look at him, tearing her eyes from the sky. She looked into his eyes, finding herself just as blown away by them as the beaming lights above.

"My grandma," she whispered, "how I hope she's proud of me right now. Of us."

"I'm sure she is," Stiles replied, thinking back to what Lydia had told him about why Harper loved stars so much.

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple before shuffling off the jeep. Harper watched with furrowed eyebrows as he climbed inside, pulling something back out.

"Close your eyes," he ordered, his voice slightly muffled as he pulled himself back up onto the roof. "Hold your hands out."

Harper did as she was told, a small smile on her face when she felt a piece of card get placed into her hands. She heard him whisper for her to open her eyes and did so. Harper's brown eyes read the certificate in her hands and she gasped quietly.

He'd named a star 'ROSE' for her, and on the side was an astrology map that told her which one it was. She immediately looked back up to the sky.

"Here," Stiles murmured, his cheek pressed against her cheek as he clasped her hand and lifted it to point where he was looking. "The brightest star in the sky."

The brunette's eyes welled with tears as she glanced back at her boyfriend, their noses automatically brushing. She kissed him hard, the salty tears falling and mixing with their lips that pushed against each other slowly. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away another tear as it fell.

"Do you like it?" Stiles whispered nervously as they pulled away, foreheads still touching.

Harper nodded quickly, "I love it. I love you."

She tackled him into a hug, the jeep creaking underneath the weight as he fell backwards. They both chuckled, their lips catching for the hundredth time that night. She held his cheeks, pulling him as close as she possibly could with the certificate between their bodies.

"I love you too," Stiles promised quietly, pushing some fallen hair out of her face as she hovered above him. "I was gonna name two binary stars after us and then ask you to prom, but when Lydia told me what the stars meant to you I thought I'd so something more meaningful."

Harper nodded quickly to show she appreciated the gesture, placing her head down on his chest, her body relaxing against his as he began to stroke her hair, his slender fingers gliding through the beach waves soothingly.

"Will you be my date to senior prom?" He asked after a while of staring at the stars- particularly Rose's one.

"I'd love nothing more than that, Mieczysław."


	16. Chapter 16

It seemed that everybody was ready for the bell to ring; everybody except for Stiles Stilinski.

The shrill sound indicated the end of an era, the noise making the steady thumping of his heart skip a beat. Excited murmurs came from all around him as teenagers filed from their seats, heading as quickly as they could for the door.

"Have a great summer, everyone," Mr Croft called happily, "to the seniors, I'll see you at graduation."

Scott turned and slapped his hands excitedly on Lydia's desk, the Banshee grinning back at him as she did a drum roll on top. Harper, who was sat next to Stiles, watched as his face fell, his hazel eyes wide as they stared at the teacher incredulously.

"Thank god!" Isaac exclaimed, rolling his neck back and making it crack.

However, Stiles wasn't having any of it.

"No," he muttered, turning to the rest of his friends, "no, no, no, no. That's it? What?"

Scott grinned, his dark eyes bright as his gaze flickered over to the Stilinski boy, not noticing the pessimistic look on his face. The werewolf's pearly whites were on display, the skin around his eyes wrinkling from where he was smiling so hard. He looked like the human equivalent of an excited puppy.

"Last day ever!" Scott wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Stiles frowned, "well, it just feels so anti-climactic."

"Well, there's the whole graduation thing," Lydia reminded him, "and we had prom last week- you liked that."

The hazel-eyed boy's lips twitched into a half-smile as he recalled the event. He'd spent more than half of the night dancing with Harper, the two of them either looking like complete idiots or slow dancing. Every night since then he wished he could go back and do it again.

"I've got to go to summer school or I can't do the whole graduation thing," Malia muttered bitterly from where she sat beside Isaac.

Scott quickly stood up, grabbing his bag. "Come on, let's do it."

Malia, Isaac and Lydia all followed in tow, not finding their last class to be as monumental as Stiles apparently was. The brunette to his left understood how he was feeling, not only because she was an Empath, but because she was sad that it was all over too.

"Come on guys, no," Stiles whined, watching as the door slammed behind them, leaving just himself and Harper sat in their desks beside each other.

There was a moment of silence as the two teenagers just sat there, facing the front where maths equations were scribbled all over the blackboard. Harper released a sigh, her shoulder sagging a little as she held onto the edge of her desk gently.

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" Harper murmured, finally glancing around at all of the empty seats surrounding them.

Stiles nodded, "I always said I hated school, but... I didn't want it to be over so fast. I can't believe I'm not going to be going to the same school as you every day."

Harper shifted in her seat, finding him already staring at her. She reached out, placing her hand on his knee as she leaned across the aisle and pressed her lips to his for a second. His lips were still pouting when she pulled away, his eyes still closed.

"I'm going to miss kissing you between classes," Stiles huffed, his voice quiet as he opened his eyes, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "And seeing your beautiful face whenever I glance next to me or hearing your voice in my ear."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, shaking her head at him. "You act like this is it."

"What if this is it?" Her boyfriend replied in an exaggerated tone. "What if you meet some really cute guy or girl in college and forget all about me?"

When Stiles had found out about Harper and Lydia, he'd almost lost his mind. He knew it only lasted a bit, and Harper quickly realised how wrong it was because she loved him so much, but he still felt a little heartbroken. 

It only took him a few hours to get over it and he was all over Harper, apologising for overreacting when she had no control of what the Ghost Riders had done. However, every time he glanced over at the Empath and the Banshee, he did feel a pang if jealousy.

But that was just Stiles.

Finding out that his girlfriend was bisexual wasn't a big deal to him at all. After all, he'd had his suspicions since Erica accused Harper of staring at her chest after Derek had bitten her.

Harper was still Harper, it was who she had been all along. At the end of the day, Stiles didn't care as long as she loved him.

"Stiles," Harper laughed, gently taking his hand from her face to squeeze it. "If these last few months have proved anything, it's that I could never forget about you."

His grin widened at that and he stood and slid his chair back under his desk, slinging his back over his shoulder. Harper copied Stiles' actions before his large hand moved to grab hers, their fingers intertwining like puzzle pieces.

"Let's leave our last ever high school class together, yeah, Stilinski?" Harper teased his sentimental ways, causing him to roll his eyes but smile.

He lifted their hands and gave her fingers a kiss. "I wouldn't want it any other way, Verum."

The hallways were busy as soon as they entered them, Stiles moving to remove everything from his locker that was beside Scott's. Harper sent him a smile as she moved to stand next to Lydia, taking her stuff out of her own locker.

Scott shoved a hoodie that he was pretty sure had been in his locker since sophomore year into his bag, sending yet another grin at his best friend.

"I can't believe we're not in high school anymore," Scott chuckled breathily, watching Stiles put countless books into his bag. "It kind of feels like nothing's really changed."

Stiles pulled a Polaroid that had been stuck to the door of his locker off, smiling down at the middle school faces of himself and Harper. They were at her birthday party and he and Scott had saved up all of their money to get her the camera that she still continued to use to this very day.

Scott noticed what he was staring at, his smile only widening. The werewolf watched as Stiles' head lifted, his gaze locking on Harper who closed her locker with a small sigh, running her hand down it. Her brown eyes drifted towards them, a smile crossing over her delicate features.

Stiles smiled back softly, realising that Scott was wrong  
Stiles smiled back softly, realising that Scott was wrong.

In freshman year, Stiles was just some scrawny fourteen-year-old boy with a massive crush on his best friend. He had no idea about the supernatural. His life consisted of school, maybe the odd detention for talking to Scott or Harper in class, homework, following his dad around while he was at work and playing video games.

Now, Stiles was an eighteen-year-old man and he was in a pack. His life was fast paced and never had any routine, which he had grown to like. He ditched school to solve supernatural crimes, and best of all, he had managed to get his best friend to fall in love with him too. Harper Verum had been his girlfriend for over two years now and he couldn't see himself with anybody else- ever. They'd done it all together.

"Everything's changed," Stiles murmured back, not peeling his eyes from the brunette as he closed his locker, officially saying goodbye to high school.

...

"Okay! So, Liam, since you're the new Alpha-"

"I'm not an Alpha," Liam cut Stiles off before he could continue, sending the older teenage boy a pointed look from where he stood leaning against the back of the jeep.

Stiles sighed, "right, but, you know, Alpha-in-training."

"Well, I'd have to kill an Alpha," Liam shook his head stubbornly.

"Liam, since you're taking over," the Stilinski boy rephrased, rolling his eyes. "The most important thing you can remember is that Mason is always gonna be the one who's there to save your ass all the time."

Mason liked what Stiles was saying, a childish grin taking over his face which he sent to the beta stood next to him. Scott chuckled in amusement, quickly realising that Stiles was referencing to them. Stiles had always seen himself as the sidekick, but everybody knew that had never been the case.

"Not all of the time," the alpha corrected, still smiling.

"Most of the time though," Stiles grinned, turning to grab something out of his jeep. "Which is why I think you're gonna need this."

He produced the aluminium bat that he loved so much, causing Harper to raise her eyebrows, surprised that he would hand it over. That thing had helped save his life on multiple occasions and hadn't left the boot of his jeep since.

"Um, I don't play baseball," Mason disclaimed.

"Right, neither do I. That's- that's not the point," the hazel-eyed boy pushed it into his hands, earning a 'thank you'. "Love you guys," he shot the two sophomores a thumbs up as they started to leave.

Next, Stiles turned to Scott, pulling out a roll of duct tape and handing it to him.

"I leave you two with this," he sighed, tapping the jeep. "You know, hurt her and I'll kill you."

Scott frowned, "you sure you won't need it?"

"It's okay," Stiles shook his head, his eyes drifting to his girlfriend who was standing next to the werewolf. "Harper's driving me down to DC and helping me settle into my dorm."

"I don't know how I'm going to survive the journey home," she admitted.

"Real question is how the hell Scott got into UC Davis," Stiles raised his brows, making the alpha chuckle.

"How did you get into George Washington?" Scott retorted before looking to Harper. "And you got into RISD?"

Harper bit down on her bottom lip as she grinned proudly, feeling an arm wrap around her and squeeze her.

"Cause she's the most talented artist ever," Stiles kept his arm around her shoulder, smiling down at the brunette adorably. "And in my case, I have your dad to thank. The big FBI pops made a call to the little pre-FBI program."

"Pre-FBI and the third best art school in the world," Scott muttered, amazed. "Wow. I guess we're not those same kids running around the woods looking for a body."

"Nope," Harper sighed as Stiles' arm fell from her shoulder to dig into his pocket, producing all of his keys.

Harper noticed that it wasn't his chain since his one had the green bottle opener on it, but she didn't open her mouth.

Harper hesitated, "you know you can keep the jeep?"

"No... I want you two to have it," Stiles insisted, handing Scott a chain of keys.

The werewolf's brows furrowed together, "Stiles, these aren't the keys to your jeep."

"Well, that's one to your guys' house, another to your room, one to Harper's room, uh, it's the master key to the school, animal clinic, key to the Sheriff's station," he listed, "just figured you should have all of the copies I secretly made."

Harper and Scott both glanced at each other before laughing, shaking their heads. He pulled his own set of keys out of his pocket, clenching them in his hand. The brunette caught sight of the yellow one, smiling slightly.

"They still need us," Stiles nodded in the direction of some teenagers walking out of the building.

Scott nodded, "they'll always need us."

"And you know I... I need you. I need both of you," Stiles spoke sincerely, "you know that."

Harper began to tear up, silently blaming the fact that the boys' emotions were starting to impact her Empath side. Scott became serious as he nodded back.

"I need you too," he murmured.

"I'm gonna miss you," Stiles added, exhaling through his nose. "No, really, I need you though, I lost my license in the Hunt. So you have to drive."

Scott laughed, "your dad is the Sheriff. I'm sure he'll let it slide."

"Stiles is driving," Harper called as she moved inside, climbing over the backseats like she always did.

Scott gave her a shove, the three of them laughing when she fell onto the seats with an 'oomf'. The brunette quickly sat up and shot him a playful glare as he buckled into his seat, grinning. Stiles started up the jeep, the vehicle rumbling beneath them.

Harper bit her lip, recalling all of the times the three of them had been in this jeep like this together, especially during their sophomore year when Harper couldn't drive and Scott didn't have his bike. She missed those times.

"Unit four, repeat, you're telling me there's a body in the woods?" Sheriff Stilinski's voice echoed over the police radio, causing Harper to stick her head through the seats, the three of them exchanging knowing glances.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, there's a body in the woods-" Stiles switched the radio off and pulled out of the parking spot, leaving the school car park with his two best friends for the last time ever.

Maybe they were still those kids running around the woods searching for bodies.

.


	17. Chapter 17

Harper watched with fond eyes as Stiles finished saying goodbye to his father who held obvious tears in his blue eyes, sad to see his son leave. After their tenth hug, Stiles came bounding over to the passenger seat of the car and threw the door open, climbing inside as he shot her a smile.

Sheriff Stilinski moved to her side of the door, his arms resting on the open window as he smiled at the two teenagers that had only been out of high school for a few months now. They'd spent the entire time together, either alone or with the rest of the pack, making the most of everything.

"Drive safely, okay, kids?" Noah patted Harper's arm which was stretched out onto the steering wheel. "Don't forget to call, and Harper, please, please, take your time on the way back."

The drive from California to Washington DC was going to be the longest that the duo had ever done. Google Maps said forty-one hours, but with breaks in between and stopping to sleep in motels, it was going to take longer than that. They planned on switching who was driving every few hours, but Harper would- unfortunately- be making the trip home alone.

"Of course, Noah," the teenage girl replied softly, "and don't worry, I'll get Stiles to his dorm in one piece."

"I know," he chuckled as he leant away from the window. "I trust you. I'll see you in a few days. And as for you," he looked to the hazel-eyed boy in the passenger seat. "I'll see you soon, son."

"Love you too, daddy-o," Stiles winked, making his father roll his eyes but chuckle in amusement.

Harper giggled, placing her key in the ignition. Her car rumbled to life, a lot smoother than the jeep which was currently parked in the driveway of the McCall household.

Noah waved as she pulled out of the driveway, Stiles doing the same. He looked back until he could no longer see his dad, the sheriff's figure nothing but a smudge in his vision. Despite knowing it would be a while until he saw his father again, Stiles allowed a grin to cover his face while he reached out and grabbed Harper's thigh, squeezing it.

"Our road trip starts now, baby!" He cheered, not missing her beaming smile as he reached for the aux cord and plugged his phone in. "Let me guess, The Neighbourhood?"

...

They'd been on the road for about five hours when Stiles began to notice Harper's enthusiasm had sizzled, her brown eyes bored onto the road and a straight expression on her face. The music had turned down from where they had been blasting it and singing alone down the highway a couple of hours ago.

"Getting tired?" Stiles asked, his hand moving back over to her leg.

As if the last word had triggered her, a small yawn escaped her lips that caused her boyfriend to chuckle. He knew that he would be able to drive longer than her, seeing as he had been driving for over a year longer than her.

"Pull over and we'll switch," Stiles instructed, gesturing to the side of the road.

Harper did as she was told, switching the car off and leaning her head back against the seat, this time yawning much louder than before. The hazel-eyed boy reached into the back seat which was filled with his bags and grabbed a packet of 'sour patch kids' from the top of one of them.

Harper caught them as he chucked them at her, smiling gently. "My favourite," she cooed, leaning across the seat and kissing him firmly on the lips.

His hand caught hers and he grasped it firmly, stroking his thumb over her soft skin. As they pulled away, they decided to switch seats, both getting out of the car.

Stiles sat in the driver's seat, immediately noticing how close the seat was to the wheel. Without thinking, he reached down and grabbed the adjuster, pushing himself back.

"No," the brunette whined, gently smacking his arm. "My seat was in a perfect position."

"Sorry, short-ass," he teased, watching as she sent him a faux glare.

He stared up the car, drumming his fingers against the wheel as he pulled out onto the nearly-deserted road. Harper grumbled something sarcastically under her breath that Stiles didn't quite pick up on, but he was sure it had something to do with the nickname he had given her seconds before.

"Can't hear you down there," Stiles continued to mock.

"Whatever," Harper dismissed him, holding her sour patch kids to her chest. "Have fun driving. Don't mind me. I'm gonna get fat on sweets and then pass out."

"Seriously, you need to either speak up or get stilts, woman."

...

By 3 am, they decided that they'd had enough of switching and sleeping in the uncomfortable car seat and that it was time for some proper rest. They picked a small motel near the highway that was pretty cheap for one night.

Harper threw the small bag that she had packed onto the double bed, exaggerating as she stretched her arms as high as she could into the air. Stiles was inspecting the bathroom, trying to determine whether it was clean enough for him to take a shower in or not.

"Does it meet your criteria, Stilinski?" She called, her tone amused as she moved over to the window and cracked it open, letting some fresh, night air through.

"Just about," Stiles huffed as he wandered back into the room, peeling his shirt off to reveal his soft abs, dark hairs at the top of his chest and the bottom of his stomach.

Harper didn't care if she got caught staring, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip. Stiles saw, his confidence boosting as a cocky smirk crossed his features. He moved closer to the brown-haired girl, placing his large hands on her hips.

Her gaze flickered up from his chest that was now practically in her face, moving to his face. He was already staring down at her, smiling. His hazel eyes twinkled as she shifted her hands so that they rested on his chest.

"Your hands are freezing," he spoke, his voice barely above a murmur- almost husky.

"Mm, well you're pretty warm," Harper responded, running her hands up his chest to snake around his neck, pressing their chests together.

She moved onto her toes, latching their lips together. Stiles hummed into her mouth, loving the contact as he kissed back just as eagerly- of not more. His tongue ran over her bottom lip and she parted her lips, allowing him to deepen the action.

"Harper," he groaned as he pulled away. "I'll miss this."

Her heart skipped a beat at his sentence since her mind hadn't even been in that place. While she had been enjoying the moment, Stiles had been thinking about the future. It would be months before they saw each other again and that made her heart hurt.

"Don't think about that," she whispered against his lips. "Think about us. Think about now."

Stiles nodded, his hands sliding to cup her face. "Shower. Now."

He grabbed her hand, leading her into the bathroom so that they could continue their antics elsewhere. His slender fingers reached for her jumper, gently pulling it over her head. Her hair sprawled out onto her shoulders, a groan escaping his lips as he realised she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.

Harper ghosted her hands down his chest, her hands brushing his happy trail as she arrived at the buttons of his khaki pants, undoing them. He copied her actions, pushing her jeans down her legs and then her underwear.

Instead of touching her like he had hoped, Stiles moved back up to tower over her, teasing her like he always did. Since they had been sexually active for over a year now, they knew exactly what each other wanted. Sex was no longer as awkward for them as it had been the first few times, they knew what the other person liked better than the backs of their hands.

Harper attached her lips back to his, pushing him by the chest back into the shower. Stiles appreciated her forwardness, kissing her back so hard that he thought he'd leave bruises. Her hand reached behind them and she switched on the shower, water immediately pouring down onto their backs.

"Ah, shit!" Stiles cursed, wincing at the scalding temperature.

"Leave it," Harper murmured, turning them around so she was mainly under the water. "It's nice and warm."

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. "Nice and warm? Sure, if you live in the firey pits of hell."

"Drama queen," Harper dismissed him with a teasing smile as his hands moved back to her hips, his body becoming used to the heat.

"Shh," he hushed her, the jokey attitude fading as he leaned down to her face.

His dark hair stuck to his forehead, his hazel eyes shining bright and his dark lashes coating in water. Beads of liquid clung to his bare shoulders, his big hands stroking up and down her waist. Harper thought he looked like an angel under the water- he always did.

Stiles also took his time admiring the girl he loved more than anything, overwhelmed by her natural beauty. Her long lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked, her brown eyes hazy as she bit down on her lip. He groaned loudly, loving it when she did that.

"God, I love you."

...

"Ten minutes," Stiles huffed nervously as he glanced over at the GPS, realising that they were closer to the campus than he thought.

The Empath sat beside him kept her eyes concentrated on the road, however, she could feel the nerves radiating from him. He played with his clammy hands anxiously, glancing out the window with panicked eyes.

She reached one of her hands across and grabbed one of his, squeezing it in his lap.

"Stiles, everything is going to be fine," Harper reassured him gently, "you have nothing to be nervous about."

"I know, I know," he muttered, sounding guilty. "Just the whole social anxiety thing, you know?"

Harper sent him a sad smile when she took her eyes off the road for a second. "I know, babe."

They were silent for a couple of minutes, Harper's hand returning back to the wheel and immediately making Stiles feel colder. He glanced across at her, studying her side profile as if he would forget it as soon as she left in the morning.

The fact that they only had about eighteen more hours together (and Harper needed at least eight hours sleep to drive home in the morning) was constantly on Stiles' mind. Stiles was going to miss Scott, his father and the rest of his friends, however, he was sure that it was going to be painful without Harper.

Before he knew it, they were pulling up in the visitor's car park, causing Stiles' breath to hitch. Everything was a blur between them climbing out of the vehicle, asking for directions to his residence hall and finding his room. The next thing he knew he was stood in a small communal area, a bathroom door on one side and two bedroom doors the other.

"What do we need to-"

Stiles was cut off when one of the bedroom doors opened, revealing a boy around their age. He had floppy dark hair that he'd pushed back and dark eyes, a bright smile on his face when he laid eyes on the two teenagers.

"Hi," the boy greeted, holding his hand out for Stiles to shake. "I'm Leo. I'm guessing you're my bathroom buddy, aye?"

Stiles nodded back, maybe too quick and his handshake too firm. He couldn't help it, he was nervous.

"Yeah, um, I'm Stiles Stilinski," the hazel-eyed boy returned the nervous smile. "This is my girlfriend Harper Verum, she's helping me unpack."

"Sweet," Leo nodded, shaking Harper's hand too. "I've already settled in, so I'll leave you two to it. If you need any help just let me know. Maybe once you're finished and your girl's gone, I'll show you around."

Stiles smiled a little at the offer. "Sounds- sounds great. I'm actually staying in a motel with her tonight though before she leaves in the morning."

"Ah," his neighbour understood. "Well, if you decide to just sleep in your dorm for the night I won't go snitching."

The couple both smiled at the laidback boy as he sent them a final wave and headed back into his room, the door clicking shut behind him. Stiles released the breath that he had been holding, his shoulders relaxing.

"He seems nice," Harper nudged him. "There's one less thing you have to worry about."

"Yeah," Stiles breathed as he unlocked the door to his room, pushing it open.

It was quite small, although he'd been expecting it. A single bed was in the corner of the room, a window beside it. A desk was pressed up against the opposite room with a lamp on top and some storage space against the other wall.

"Let's start bringing everything up," the Empath suggested.

It took them almost an hour to carry all of Stiles things through the carpark and up all of the stairs to his room. Stiles' neighbour had offered help, but they denied him politely. By the end of the hour, Stiles was bringing everything out of the car himself while Harper started the unpacking.

She noticed a pinboard on the wall and pulled out a box that had Stiles' personal things from his room in them. The brunette grasped his pins and began to stick up plenty of pictures in an attempt to make the room seem more homely.

Stiles walked in as she was pinning one of her and him, a sad smile crossing his features. He moved up behind her and wrapped his strong arms around her petite frame, hugging her body close to his front. Harper finished pinning the photograph, her hands falling to his arms and her head rolling back to rest on his chest as they looked at the little art piece she had created in his new room.

"I love it," he murmured, his voice quiet but deep against her ear. "Thank you."

"Of course," Harper mumbled back, holding up one of his hands and pressing a kiss to it.

The realisation that she had to leave soon was starting to sink in for her as well and Stiles knew it. Despite not being an Empath, he could read his girlfriend pretty well. He knew that she was trying to remain optimistic for him, but she was upset too.

Instead of moping around, the teenage couple got to work by making Stiles' bed, the double duvet sprawling across his single bed and hitting the wooden floor beneath it. Harper set up his small speaker on his bedside table and played music quietly while they put everything in the right places.

"I bought you some candles when we stopped at the store yesterday so your room smells nice," Harper told him, grabbing them out of the plastic bag.

She set one by his bed, the other on the window and the last one on his desk.

Stiles picked one up and sniffed it, the scent alone bringing make many wonderful memories of himself and Harper in her bedroom. He realised immediately that these were the same ones from her bedroom, his heart fluttering. She'd obviously picked up on how much he liked the smell of her room and bought them on purpose.

He was happy that even if he wasn't in Beacon Hills, he would still feel close to her. That was the same reason he had snuck one of her jumpers and hid it at the bottom of his bag to keep. It smelt just like her and it was soft. While he wouldn't fit into it like she fit into his, he knew he could still sleep with it- but not too much, or her scent would fade and unfortunately, he didn't have the supernatural ability to enhance it.

"I love you," he announced, the words coming out randomly to her.

Harper glanced over her shoulder from where she'd been folding some of his shirts and putting them in a drawer. He watched the soft smile cross her delicate features, making him feel proud to have put it there.

"I love you too."

...

Stiles and Harper found a diner nearby and decided to eat there for dinner a few hours later. Both were famished after carrying all of the boxes and living off of sweets for the past two or so days, so a meal was in order. They ended up with some of the biggest burgers Harper had ever seen in her life and milkshakes that were to die for.

The brunette sipped at her strawberry one, not minding as Stiles reached across their small booth and grabbed a curly fry off of her plate. He'd finished his five minutes ago, but after the burger, she couldn't eat her sides. Luckily her boyfriend was a hoover.

"Your classes start on Monday, right?" Harper asked and he nodded. "So orientation lasts three days?"

"Mhm," he wiped his lips with his napkin. "You should be back in Beacon Hills by then."

"Then I leave two days later for orientation at RISD," she forced a smile, feeling the dread in her stomach settle.

All of the travelling meant Stiles had almost forced her not to take him to DC since that meant she'd only get a couple of days to break after four days of constant driving. However, Harper had refused not to take him and he had to admit he would be upset if he had to go without her, so he let her take him.

Stiles reached across and grasped her hand which had been rested on the edge of the table.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine," he reassured her, rubbing his thumb in circular motions on her soft skin. "You're going to fit in so well there. Plus, you being there means we're less than ten hours away, and in the same time zone."

Harper smiled at him, squeezing his slender fingers. "We can meet up some weekends when we're not busy with all the homework we'll be getting."

"Oh, you can count on it," Stiles scoffed.

"I'm gonna miss you," she whispered, not breaking eye contact.

"I promise you," her boyfriend shook his head with a soft smile. "No matter how much you're missing me, Verum, I'm missing you ten times more. But that doesn't matter, because we'll be seeing each other soon."

Harper smiled back wearily. She wanted to believe him, she really did. However, something dark within her was telling her that this would be the last night she spent with Stiles Stilinski.

"You look like you don't believe me," the hazel-eyed boy chuckled.

She shook her head quickly in response. "No, no. Must just be feeling nervous, that's all," she lied.

Harper knew something bad was going to happen to her.

She knew that the next time Stiles Stilinski saw her, it wouldn't be like this.


	18. Chapter 18

Harper Verum was experiencing a mixture of emotions, which, for the Empath, was nothing new.

It had started as soon as she drove past the 'WELCOME TO BEACON HILLS' sign, the sensation of dread finding an unwanted home in the pit of her stomach. Her hands had been clammy as she gripped the steering wheel, pleading with herself not to have a breakdown when she was so close to finally arriving home.

The journey back had been a long one. Without Stiles Stilinski by her side, she'd been forced to listen to her CD's on repeat alone, somehow becoming bored of The Neighbourhood. It just didn't feel right to sing along when it wasn't with him.

Saying goodbye had been one of the hardest things both Harper and Stiles had ever had to do. He didn't want her to leave and she certainly didn't want to return home without him. However, they'd managed to pull away eventually- just not with dry eyes. They promised to call every single day.

So then came the feeling of relief.

Being back at the McCall household with her two foster brothers made her feel better. Isaac Lahey and Scott McCall had Chinese takeout on the table as soon as she got home, knowing exactly what dishes to get to make her smile. Despite being exhausted from all of the travelling, she'd managed to stay up until four in the morning with them, watching Marvel films and laughing.

Harper was also excited.

The thought of heading off to RISD in a couple of days gave her butterflies. Of course, the brunette worried she wouldn't make friends or she'd end up hating it, but the bigger part of her knew that this was what she had always wanted. She wanted to take her art to a new level and this was it. Rhode Island School of Design. The third biggest art school in the world.

Another plus side to the college was that it was closer to George Washington University than Beacon Hills. It was still a ten-hour drive, but it meant that she and Stiles wouldn't be as far apart. They'd probably be able to see each other some weekends too. It was just going to be tough since the longest they'd ever been separated was three months and that was because of the Wild Hunt.

It had been four days since she had dropped Stiles to his school and Harper was in the middle of packing. Half of her wardrobe had been taken apart, her art supplies all boxed and the possessions she couldn't live without with them.

"Denim jacket, denim jacket," she murmured under her breath, searching for the item of clothing she wore with almost every outfit during high school.

The brunette looked under her bed, her bottom lip poking out into a pout when she realised it wasn't there. After searching high and low in her room, Scott's room and Isaac's room, she suddenly remembered exactly where she had left it.

Malia Tate's house.

There was no way in hell that Harper was leaving Beacon Hills without that jacket. She loved that thing more than Chinese food- and that was a lot.

So, at eleven at night, Harper found herself in her car driving to Malia's house where she knew the werecoyote would be with Isaac. The pair were planning a getaway to France, Malia's idea, and as far as Harper was concerned, they were due to leave in a couple of hours. That meant she had to retrieve her item of clothing as soon as possible.

When she pulled up into the driveway, her brows furrowed at not only the sight of Isaac's motorcycle but Lydia' blue car. Harper huffed a little, guessing that they were having a little get together without inviting her. Scott was busy working his last shift as an assistant coach at the school.

The brunette bounded up the stairs, swinging open the bedroom door. Immediately a body almost went flying into her, causing her to shriek and jump back. Isaac stood there with glowing eyes, his claws stuck out.

"Dude!" Harper complained, "you almost sliced me in half!"

"I thought you were a predator," Isaac defended himself, his eyes shifting back to their usual blue as he shrugged. "Maybe knock on the front door next time instead of letting yourself in."

"You couldn't smell that it was me?" Harper accused further.

Malia huffed loudly from where she was sprawled out on the bed, her laptop by her side. 'DELAYED' was flashing across the screen, leading Harper to believe that maybe the couple's little Paris getaway wasn't going to plan.

The werecoyote sat up and folded her arms across her chest, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess, you're here because Scott and Liam want you to convince me to help too."

Harper's face scrunched up, not missing as Lydia physically facepalmed herself, her green eyes closing as she released a stressed sigh. The brunette immediately forgot all about the denim jacket that she had arrived for.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harper looked between her three friends with squinted eyes. "Scott and Liam need your help for what?"

"Nothing!" Lydia sighed, although Harper knew it was definitely something. "Nothing for you to worry about."

She sent a glare to Malia as she spat the last sentence, making the Tate girl scoff, "I didn't know that we weren't supposed to tell her about the dead wolves."

"Dead wolves?!" Harper exclaimed, "why the bloody hell are there dead wolves around?"

"None of your business," the Banshee retorted, moving away from where she stood by the edge of Malia's bed to clasp Harper's shoulders, steering her in the direction of the door. "Go home, go pack."

Harper rolled her eyes, "this is totally my business."

She planted her feet firmly on the ground, her hands sticking out to catch the door frame before her body could be shoved out into the hallway. Lydia sighed once more.

"I don't see why we can't just tell her?" Malia pushed.

"Scott said no, and I agree with Scott," Lydia replied, giving one last shove until Harper was stumbling into the hall. "Sorry, Harps."

She gave the Empath a wave and slammed the door, leaving Harper to stare at it with a dumbfounded expression written across her face. For the life of her, she couldn't work out why her friends would start wanting to shut her out now.

Harper grabbed the handle and pushed it down, groaning when it didn't budge. She smacked her hand against the painted wood of the door.

"Get off of it, Lahey!" Harper snapped, "you can't exclude me from pack things when I'm an OG pack member! Scott, Stiles and I have the right to kick you-"

"I'm not letting you in because you just called yourself an OG," Isaac's muffled response came from behind the door, making Harper's glare falter as she clenched her jaw, giving the bottom one last small kick. "And you can't ban us from the pack, you love us too much."

"Whatever," she called, making sure they could hear as she began to head towards the stairs. "See if I care. You guys and Scott can not tell me anything you want, doesn't affect me. I don't even want to know about dead wolves."

She stood by the top of the stairs, waiting for one of them to open the door and sigh and pull her back inside to spill the secrets. That didn't happen.

"You're all lame!" Harper yelled, eyes catching the jacket that she had left on the bottom of the bannister.

She jogged down and snatched it off of the wood, bunching it in her arms. Harper stormed out of the house and slammed the door right behind her, making sure that even Lydia could hear without her supernatural hearing.

"Idiots," Harper whispered to herself as she climbed back into the car, sitting in the front seat for a while. "They don't think I can figure it out. Dumbasses."

...

Scott denied all of Harper's phone calls, as did Liam. Harper had barely seen the beta throughout the summer since she knew he was depressed over Hayden leaving Beacon Hills to protect her sister. Nobody really blamed her, not even Liam, but she had been the Allison to his Scott- of course he was upset.

The brunette finished packing and moved downstairs into the kitchen to grab the plane ticket off of her table. After arriving home a couple of days ago, Harper decided she wasn't prepared to travel across the entire country for the second time in the span of just over a week. Rhode Island was too far, so with the financial help of Melissa McCall, Harper had bought a one-way plane ticket.

She didn't have to be at the airport for another few hours, however, instead of double-checking that she had everything with her, Harper let her curiosity get the best of her. Before she left, she was determined to figure out what the pack were hiding from her, and since Scott and Liam now weren't answering their phones, Harper called someone else- someone she knew would answer. 

"Mason," Harper greeted with a wide grin once the ringing had ended.

"H-Harper?" Mason's voice stammered down the other end, leading the Empath to believe that he hadn't checked his ID before he answered.

"Harper?" She heard Liam hiss, attempting to keep his voice down in the background. "Scott told us not to answer her, dumbass!"

"Listen, Harper, I have to go, I-"

"Nope," Harper cut him off, her tone firm. "Where are you right now? I want to say goodbye before I leave for college."

"Oh," she heard a breath of relief at her lie, causing her to smirk slightly. "Liam and I are at the hospital with Melissa."

"Great!" Harper held the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she shuffled around for her car keys. "See you in ten."

..

The hospital was packed when Harper arrived. People were being carried around on stretchers all around her, dozens of citizens clutching bleeding heads or begging doctors to assist them. Melissa walked around between them all, clearly stressed as she warned a couple of men to stop arguing.

"Liam, Mason!" Harper called once she spotted them, jogging over to the two boys who held a plastic bag in their hands.

Mason's eyes widened once he noticed her, quickly shoving it behind his back. The brunette slowed to a halt in front of them, raising her eyebrows.

"Hey, Harper," they both greeted awkwardly, wincing at their obviousness.

"Listen, I'm not gonna pretend I'm here to say goodbye, even though that is partially the reason..." Harper examined their nervous faces. "I know for a fact that all of you are hiding something from me, and I need to know what. You can't just exclude me from pack things."

Liam sighed, his face falling and his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Scott told us not to tell you."

"Yeah, I've heard that twice now," Harper muttered sourly, "so where is he, then? And what's so bad that he wants to let everyone else in the pack know except me? Is it cause I can't fight? Or heal? Cause it looks like Mason knows and he can't fight or heal either, which is really unfair-"

"It's because you're heading off to college in four hours," Mason cut her rambling off, sensing that she was starting to become upset from being shut out. "He doesn't want you worrying, or then calling up Stiles and making him worry."

"So something is going on?" Harper lowered her voice, stepping closer towards them and away from patients whirling past. "Something supernatural?"

Neither boys said anything, but their faces gave it away completely.

Harper couldn't believe it.

Just as everybody was meant to be going off to college, another supernatural occurrence was starting to rise. All Harper knew was that it apparently involved dead wolves, but that was all.

"Back off!" A man suddenly yelled from beside them, causing all three teenagers to turn around.

Their eyes widened as they watched a patient shove another one back onto an empty gurney, both of them radiating anger.

"Now that's assault!" The other shouted, climbing back up and shoving him by the shoulders.

Melissa rushed over, "hey! Hey! Can somebody please get security over here?"

Liam ditched them and rushed over as the dark-haired man started to ball his fist up again, standing right in front.

"Sir! Sir, you need to calm down-" He was cut off by the man punching him right in the face, causing him to stumble back.

Harper gasped, horrified that a grown man would just turn around and punch a teenage boy in the face like that. She watched as Liam clutched his nose, fury washing over him as he looked back up, his eyes glowing golden and his fangs bared. Crimson liquid dripped from his nostril, his long hair flopping slightly over his forehead.

"Oh my god," Harper whispered, looking around at all of the patient's horrified expressions.

Security came rushing over and grabbed the two men that had been fighting before, pulling them away from Liam who was growling, his claws digging into his palms and creating waterfalls of blood. Harper rushed over to him, putting her hand on his back and pushing some relaxing energy inside.

"L-Liam," she stumbled, watching as his eyes returned to their usual baby blue colour, his nails retracting so they were short again. "They saw."

He knew what she meant when she said it, glancing up at all of the doctors and patients that stared at him like he was some sort of freakshow.

"Come on," she grabbed his hand, ignoring the transfer of warm blood as she tugged him in the direction of the elevator.

A couple of nurses tried to stop them, but they kept on moving until they were all the way down the hall and in the safety of the metal box. Liam started to frantically press the buttons on the side, desperately wanting to get away from all of the people that had just seen him morph into a freaking werewolf.

"Your mantra, Liam," Harper reminded him, helping him lower himself to the floor, his back pressed against the lift wall. "What are three things that cannot long be hidden?"

"The sun..." He panted, "the moon... the truth."

Harper smiled slightly when she sensed that he was calming down, his ragged breaths slowly easing into a healthy breathing pattern. As the doors began to close, she heard somebody start to run for the elevator and what she could have sworn was a growl. She quickly turned to see who it had been, but the doors were shut.

"Are you struggling to keep control because of..." Harper didn't want to say her name in case it made Liam even further upset.

Liam licked his bottom lip, his eyes casting up to the older girl's. "Yeah..." He whispered, "I miss her a lot."

"I know how you feel," she offered him a sad smile, thinking of her own boyfriend. "But she'll come back to you, I know it."

"I don't want you or Scott to leave either," Liam admitted, "and then Lydia's leaving soon too, and Malia and Isaac are going to Paris..."

"You have Mason," Harper reminded him, squeezing his hand. "You two are... You're as close as Stiles and Scott are. You don't need anyone else."

"Stiles and Scott need you," Liam reminded her, "like I need Hayden."

Harper gripped his hand tighter, "come on, Liam. Be an independent woman."

He raised his eyebrows at her and she shrugged, "usually, I'm comforting Lydia over breakups. Point is, maybe this will be good for you. Time to focus on your school year, your friendship with Mason and controlling your anger-"

"-dealing with the dead rats and wolves that have freaking spiders crawling out of them, which we have no idea why," he added sourly before he realised his mistake, his eyes bulging.

Harper's eyes twinkled in amusement, a sly grin crossing her face as she patted his shoulder, accidentally printing his blood back on it.

"I knew one of you would let it slip- I just thought it would have been Mason."

The elevator pinged and opened, releasing them to the top floor. Harper got ready to go back down.

After all, Scott McCall had some explaining to do.


	19. Chapter 19

Harper was obeying the laws of the road as she drove back to the McCall household, her fingers impatiently drumming against the steering wheel beneath her hands. The brunette had the radio playing quietly, impatient sighs coming from her slightly parted lips at the amount of time she was wasting.

The digital clock in her car confirmed that she only had two hours before she needed to be at the airport, much to her dismay. That meant she had less time than that to find her friends and get a little closure before leaving for the next chapter in her life.

Harper was nervous, to say the least.

Just as she started to reach to turn the radio up, a dark shape ran out into the road, immediately causing Harper to release a shriek. Her foot hit the brakes, her hands clutching the wheel as her car skidded to a stop.

The English girl's eyes were scrunched up as everything grew silent- too silent. She hadn't felt the impact of whatever had run out into the road, much to her relief. Slowly, Harper peeled her eyes open, finding nothing in front of the car.

She climbed out of the car, her phone clutched tightly in her hand just in case. Although, her friends had been ignoring her all day so if she called them when there was a real emergency she doubted they would actually answer.

"Hello?" Harper called nervously, moving to the front of her car where she found a man lying on his stomach in front of her.

He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of ripped shorts. The man lying on the road was covered in what looked like burn marks, groans coming from his lips.

"A-Are you okay?" Harper kneeled down beside him, hesitantly moving out to touch him. She hissed when her fingertips brushed his shoulder, finding that he was boiling hot. "I-I'm gonna go out on a whim and guess you're not human, yeah?"

Suddenly, the man lifted an arm, his palm smacking down onto the road beside him. Harper leaned back as he turned himself over, revealing his front. He had to be in his late twenties, a pained expression written across his face as his spare hand clutched his stomach.

The Empath's brown eyes trailed down, widening when she saw that his torso had been shredded by what looked like claws. Blood spilt from the wounds, drenching his large palms and coating his muscles. She stood up, stumbling back a little.

"Oh god, please tell me you're not the bad guy," Harper muttered, however, she didn't run- he was so weak he couldn't even stand.

Harper pulled her phone to her ear, praying that this time Scott would pick up.

"Come on, you bloody idiot," Harper cursed under her breath, watching with worried eyes as the supposedly supernatural man continued to groan around on the floor.

As expected, Scott's phone went straight to voicemail.

"Scott McCall, I am actually going to kill you. Genuinely, truly, actually going to murder you. I- I am stood in the middle of the road with some guy who should probably be dead by now, you know, judging by the freaking burn marks and scratches across his skin so call me back and tell me what to do because, for the hundredth time today, I have no clue what to do and I leave for college in two hours!"

Harper ended her passionate voicemail with a loud huff, dramatically pressing the screen to disconnect herself. Her dark eyes shifted back to the man who had gone still, his skin deathly pale. No more groans escaped his lips, making Harper panic.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" The Empath could still feel the pain pulsating from his stomach so she knew he had to be alive.

As she crouched down next to him again, his bloody hand reached out and gripped her arm causing her to gasp. His blue eyes flickered open, staring at her widely.

"W-what-"

"Verum," he muttered in a cough, silencing the stunned teenager. "Empath."

Harper's lips had parted in shock, sending him a small nod. "How- how do you know me?"

"From Eichen House," he jabbed a finger at himself breathlessly. "Protector."

"Protector?" Harper repeated, dumbfounded. "Do you have a name? Did you escape Eichen House?"

"Halwyn," the Hellhound responded, "save Empaths from-"

Her phone suddenly began to ring, making him look at it in alarm. He acted as if he had never seen a phone before, his death grip on her arm falling. Harper swallowed, trying to ignore the phone call, but Halwyn was distracted by something in the woods behind the road.

"We need to run," he whispered.

"It's just my phone-"

"No, not that," everything went silent before Harper heard twigs snap in the woods. "That."

He growled at the sound before he clambered up off of the ground, grabbing her by the wrist once again. Harper tried to escape his grasp, trying to say to get in her car, but he was already pulling her into the woods on the opposite side of the road.

They made it five minutes in before they heard the snap of twigs again. Halwyn grabbed Harper's body with the little strength he had left and moved her behind a tree, a warning look in his eye.

"Do not come out... No matter-" Halwyn was cut off by a gunshot.

Harper gasped, immediately clasping her hand over her mouth as she watched the Hellhound's body drop to the ground. She could feel the sickening pain as everything went silent. Harper waited for whoever had been following them to come after her next, but there was just the sound of heavy breathing.

It sounded like a woman.

Suddenly, Halwyn's claws extended from his fingers and he clawed his way up off of the leafy ground, turning to face the person that Harper couldn't see. She watched his eyes light up as he roared, the sound probably waking up all of Beacon Hills.

Harper hid behind the tree, her eyes clamped shut as she listened to the pained grunts of the woman and the growls of the Hellhound. They were throwing each other about, the woman clearly having an advantage due to Halwyn's obvious injuries.

Another shot went off and everything went silent again, leading Harper to believe that it was really over this time. She couldn't feel any of his pain, only the absolute dread coming from the woman as she began to run away, pants escaping her body.

Harper climbed out of her hiding spot, her bottom lip jutting out as she rushed over to the man who had been trying to tell her something before. Halwyn had a bullet wound straight through his forehead, his blue eyes left wide as they stared lifelessly up at the sky of trees.

"Oh my god," she winced.

A million and one thoughts began to run through Harper's head yet again. This man was a Hellhound from Eichen House who supposedly tried to protect Empaths... but from what?

She pulled her phone out her back pocket, finding a missed call from both Scott and Stiles. Before she could swipe up for either of them, she heard the yell of her name in various voices- all of which belonged to her friends.

"Scott!" Harper yelled back, tilting her head towards the sky. "Scotty!"

Less than a minute later, footsteps were running towards her, Malia quickly ducking down to hold her hands against Harper's body which was crouched over Halwyn's. The rest of her friends stared down at the Hellhound in shock, glancing back to Harper.

"Did you..." Isaac gestured to the bullet wound in his forehead.

Harper grimaced, quickly shaking her head. "It was another woman.... she- she took off after she did it."

"I thought you couldn't kill a Hellhound," Lydia muttered as Scott noticed the casing of a bullet between some leaves.

"Argent," he whispered, inspecting the golden arrowhead carved into it.

"Then it's true," Lydia pursed her lips.

"Then what's true?" Harper glanced between her friends, still very confused by the entire situation.

Isaac huffed, "what else did you hear, Lydia?"

"The sound of people who've never lifted a hand against another human being," the banshee spoke.

"Something was killing them?" Scott assumed.

"They were killing each other."

...

"Why didn't you guys tell me?" Harper asked before releasing a stressed sigh, glancing at her four friends who sat around on Scott's double bed, waiting anxiously for her to retrieve from the shower where she had spent ages trying to rub the blood from Halwyn off of her skin.

By now she had missed her plane to Rhode Island and while nobody had mentioned it, nobody had forgotten either. They saw the disappointed look on the petite girl's face and realised that by keeping Harper in the dark, they'd actually caused more harm.

"Anyone?" The brunette bit down on her bottom lip, looking directly at her foster brothers who looked like two kicked puppies.

"We thought it was better this way," Scott admitted, "you and Stiles off to college, finally living the normal lives that you two both deserve. We didn't want to take you away from one of the best art schools in the world- we knew how much you were excited to go."

"We didn't want to hold you back, is what he is saying," Malia deadpanned, "and you're basically a magnet for supernatural disaster."

"Meaning?" Harper looked slightly offended.

"Name one supernatural occurrence you haven't almost died in," Isaac scoffed, raising his eyebrows at her when Harper went silent. "Exactly."

"Well, maybe this wasn't your decision to make," Harper folded her arms across her chest. "And besides, it looks like I'm involved now anyway."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked, "because of the Hellhound?"

Harper nodded, "he was trying to protect me... He said that he was from Eichen House and that he protected all Empaths, and that sparks a memory inside me but-"

Scott saw the dazed look in her brown eyes and he pursed his lips. The Alpha stood from his bed and made his way over, placing his hand on the brunette's shoulder reassuringly.

"It was Valack," Harper admitted, "he told me something about a man who protected Empaths in the early nineteen hundreds."

"From what?" Lydia questioned eagerly, "this is what we needed the Hellhound for, Harper. To find out what the hell we let into the world when we opened the rift for Stiles."

"I- I can't remember," Harper admitted solemnly, biting down on her bottom lip. "I was so out if it and drugged up- I can't really- I can't remember much of what happened while Valack was experimenting on me."

"That's okay," Scott rubbed her arm again.

There was a small silence before Harper whispered, "I missed my flight."

Her friends all exchanged glances, worried that she was about to start crying. No tears entered her brown eyes, however, the lines on her forehead crinkled as she frowned deeply at the thought.

"I'm not going to college for a while," Scott admitted, "not while I have a town to protect."

"You two aren't going either?" She glanced to Malia and Isaac who nodded sadly.

Isaac sighed, "it just... it doesn't feel right."

Harper swallowed, "well then I guess I'm staying too."

"What?" Lydia scoffed, "Harper, no way. You got accepted into the third best art school in the world, you have the chance to live a normal life, you'll be closer to your boyfriend. All summer you've been ranting about how excited you are to finally live a normal life!"

"My dad is a psychotic scientist that killed my supernatural mum, and I inherited her abilities. I don't think I could have a normal life if I tried," Harper sent them a halfhearted smile.

"So what are you saying?" Malia asked, although she already knew.

"I'm saying that this pack needs each other now, and I'm staying so we can work this out," Harper confirmed confidently, "but... no telling Stiles."

"What?" The werecoyote scoffed, "doesn't that defeat the purpose of the whole pack needing each other?"

"Harper's right..." Scott admitted, "Stiles is already in college, enjoying life... we can't take that away from him, it's not fair."

The Empath continued to nod, "plus you guys haven't heard how excited he is to be at school. He calls me every night and tells me about his day. He's- Stiles is really happy, and he deserves that."

Lydia, Isaac and Malia went silent, each knowing for a fact that Harper and Scott were right. The Stilinski boy was ecstatic to be in the pre-FBI program, he didn't need them calling him back to Beacon Hills for some supernatural drama they could most likely handle within a few weeks max.

Scott smiled, "he sent me a voicemail this morning. Listen."

Harper sat down next to him on the bed. Isaac, Malia and Lydia crowded around them, all watching as Scott pressed his finger against the screen to hit play. As Stiles' voice began to fill the room, Harper found herself biting down on her bottom lip, her heart aching.

"Hey, Scott," Stiles practically beamed, "so, I'm here! I'm in Quantico, Virginia, at the FBI. I'm at the freaking FBI! It's real, I'm really here."

Everybody smiled softly at the excitement his tone held. Harper closed her eyes and was able to feel all of the emotions that had been pouring from the Stilinski boy while he had recorded the message.

"I really, really miss you guys- especially Harper- even though I FaceTimed her last night," Stiles ranted, causing Harper to blush a little. "I keep calling her every day but I don't want her to think I'm clingy but... whatever, I am clingy."

Scott released a breathy chuckle as Stiles continued, "anyway, listen, Scott, whatever you're doing right now, just make sure you're still getting out of Beacon Hills. I mean, maybe you think you can't leave, you know, like, the whole thing falls apart if you're not there, which, I get. I know you're supposed to drive out tonight, so, if you don't call me back, just promise me you're actually going. Just get in the jeep and go."

The voicemail ended, leaving the teenagers in a heavy silence. Harper opened her eyes, releasing a shaky breath. Her and Scott exchanged guilty glances, knowing that they were going against what Stiles' wanted.

Harper's phone suddenly pinged, causing her to pull it out the back pocket of her jeans.

STILES: hey, you missed my call earlier. it's really late here, but you should be on your flight right now so you probably won't see this for a while. call me when you get off of the plane. i love you so much.

Harper sucked in a breath, feeling her dark eyes brim with tears. Not just because she had to lie to Stiles now, but because she was going to miss out on college for a while and nothing was going to how she had planned it. If Stiles was here, he would wrap her in his arms and tell her exactly what to do.

"I can't lie to him," she admitted solemnly. "I can't pretend I'm there."

"Sure you can," Isaac patted her shoulder simply, "just call him in a few hours time, say you're off the plane and remember that you're supposed to be five hours ahead now- like him."

She rolled her eyes, "no. I can't do that to him."

"Then ignore him," Malia huffed, "you're making it complicated."

"She can't ignore her boyfriend, Malia," Lydia responded sternly, rubbing her hand up Harper's arm in a comforting motion. "Harper, you're gonna have to lie unless you want to tell him the truth."

"I can't do that to him either," Harper whispered.

"Then you know what you have to do."

...

"We can still catch him," Malia reminded Scott who had been storming ahead through the woods, his head hunched and small pants escaping his lips.

Harper sighed as he turned around, his tan face pulled into a frown. The Empath could sense the panic falling off of him, his brown eyes slightly crazed as they darted between his four friends frantically.

"Catch who?" He asked.

"Whoever killed the Hellhound..." Isaac folded his arms across his chest, sending Scott a pointed look. "Who the hell else would we be trying to catch?"

Scott raised the bullet casing that he still held between his fingers. "Getting the bullet to Argent."

"Even if he's the one who fired it?" Malia asked as they began to walk towards him, their boots crunching down on the leaves beneath their feet.

"Especially if he's the one."

Harper shook her head, "it wasn't a man. It was a woman... Or at least I'm pretty sure it was based on their breathing. Plus... they were terrified and Argent's a natural."

"We're not taking any chances," Scott announced, turning and walking back in the direction they had been heading towards.

He suddenly paused.

"Do you hear that?"

Malia and Isaac glanced at each other before tilting their heads so their ears were towards the sky. Lydia moved closer towards Harper, gently grasping the Empath's wrist.

"Heartbeats," both Isaac and Malia muttered in unison.

"A lot of them," Scott confirmed, breathing heavily, "they're here."

"Who?" Lydia demanded.

"Hunters," Scott's eyes widened, "run!"

Lydia's grip on Harper's wrist tightened as the two girls took off running. Their feet smacked against the forest floor as Malia and Isaac ran next to them, continuously looking sideways to make sure that the two girls with no supernatural ability for speed were keeping up fine, which they were.

"Scott!" Malia yelled to the Alpha who was soaring ahead, "Scott, wait!"

"He's panicking," Harper gasped, watching as he ran straight into a clearing.

Torches were being pointed at him from every direction, all belonging to the Sheriff's department. Isaac stuck his arm out, not letting the girls go any further as they watched Scott growl at them all, his entire body shifting to its werewolf form.

Scott suddenly pounced on Sheriff Stilinski, causing Harper to gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. They collapsed to the floor, Noah yelling out for Scott to calm down. The police officers shone their torches, pistols pointed at Scott and ready to shoot.

Within seconds, the Alpha had calmed down. Noah started to pat Scott's arm comfortingly, helping him off the floor. Scott looked around at all of the police officers, his face fallen. They had seen him in his werewolf form.

"Everybody stay back. It's just a kid," Sheriff Stilinski warned, holding his hands up in defence.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" A female officer called worriedly as they started to lower the blinding lights.

Deputy Parrish stepped in front of the woman who's pistol was still raised. "You heard the Sheriff," Parrish snapped, "stand down."

The rest of the pack took their calmness as a sign that they could come forward. Harper and Isaac were quickly on either side of Scott's crouched figure, their hands on his back as he slowly looked up at him. His face was back to normal, but his brown eyes shown with concern.

Harper breathed shakily, "you saw something, didn't you?"

Scott just nodded.


	20. Chapter 20

"I'm really sorry," Scott apologised for the hundredth time that night, his friends stood behind or beside him once all of the police officers had spread out across the woods. "You don't think they saw anything, do you?"

Parrish sighed, "no more than they're used to."

Lydia's gaze lingered on the older man for a little too long. Once their eyes met, she instantly disconnected them, moving closer to Harper who hadn't noticed. The Empath was more concerned about what the hell had happened to Scott and why she had felt so more fear radiating from him.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Sheriff Stilinski asked calmly, gesturing to the dead body that they had lead him to.

"It's a Hellhound," Parrish acknowledged.

"A dead Hellhound," Malia stated, making Isaac send her a look.

"I think he got that part, Mal," he sighed, patting her on the shoulder. "The man's got a pair of eyes."

"Well I don't get it," Deputy Parrish cut in, "I didn't think you could kill a Hellhound."

Harper sighed softly, "he- he went down pretty easy. He was already weak from fighting Liam at the school and then- and then this."

Noah's eyes snapped to the teenage girl, as if he had only just processed that she was there. The pack watched as his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Stiles said you were on a flight to Rhode Island," he pointed at her, clearly confused.

Harper swallowed, "well, that may be a small lie that we're having to make for Stiles. Please, Noah, don't tell him that Scott and I are still in Beacon Hills. It's- it's for his own safety."

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, "I won't say anything to him."

There was a short silence. Noah looked over to Scott with raised brows, making the Alpha glance up at him. Scott had been awfully quiet since the whole situation had happened, feeling immense guilt for tackling Stiles' dad and also worried that the officers would be scared of him now.

"You got anything you wanna add to the whole Hellhound problem?" Noah questioned.

Yet again, there was more silence. Harper's eyes cast down to Scott's hand which was still fiddling with the bullet that belonged to an Argent. He slipped it back into the pocket of his jogging bottoms and gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Yeah," Scott muttered quietly, "I don't think it was just any bullet."

Parrish frowned as he looked down at the other Hellhound. "I hope not."

...

"It wasn't him," Harper rolled her eyes, taking the bullet from Scott's hand from where he had been fiddling with it nonstop on the drive home.

The brunette sat squashed in between Scott and Lydia while Malia drove, Isaac in the passenger side of course. His large hand sat on the werecoyote's leg as he glanced at the trio in the back through the mirror.

"Then why did we find a bullet with Argent's symbol on it?" Isaac asked and Scott nodded along softly, looking to Harper for answers.

She huffed, "I don't know, maybe there's another Argent in town? I'm just pretty sure that I would have been able to sense that it was him if it had of been Argent. But I didn't... so it couldn't have been."

"I believe Harper," Lydia chirped confidently when she saw the way the other three were all glancing at each other. "And I think you guys should too."

Harper sent the strawberry blonde a grateful smile as Malia pulled up into the driveway of the McCall residence. Scott sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt. He was ready to get out of the car and just sleep. It had been an extremely long night.

"It's not that I don't believe Harper... I just think that the bullet must have something to do with Argent," Scott replied, "and none of us should say anything to anyone- even Stilinski- until we've spoken to him first. Everybody good with that?"

"Aye, aye captain," Isaac saluted Scott mockingly, causing the Alpha to huff and Harper to scoff a little.

"As long as we talk to Argent soon," Lydia sighed, "immediately would be preferable."

"Premonition?" Malia guessed.

"Yeah. The one with the screaming, and people killing each other."

"Do you think he'll know what came out of the rift? I'm starting to get kind of concerned that the thing that came out is so terrifying the only safe place to put it was in the Wild Hunt," Harper muttered, "and also the fact that I apparently needed protecting from it."

Sensing her nervousness, Scott placed a hand on her shoulder. "We won't let anything happen to you."

"Yeah, if you were gonna die, Lydia would sense it," Malia shrugged.

"Malia!" Lydia retorted, "that's morbid, don't scare Harper."

"It's supposed to be comforting! My point is you haven't had a premonition of her dying-"

"Malia," Scott warned, seeing the wide eyes of the Empath.

"I'm getting out the car now," Harper slowly nodded, unbuckling her belt and sliding out of the vehicle.

She closed the door and released a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. Harper couldn't help but think that something awfully bad was going to happen to her. Her phone pinged in her pocket so she took it out.

STILES: morning, time zone buddy! you landed yet?

Harper realised it must be about half six where he was, despite it being three in the morning here. She bit her lip as she got typing, sending her first lie to her boyfriend.

TO STILES: the plane ride was great. i'll face time you when i've had a nap.

His response came before she had even made it to the front door, causing Harper to pause. Isaac and Scott were climbing out the car as Harper scanned the screen, her shoulders tensing.

STILES: can't wait to see your beautiful face

Harper hated this.

...

Morning came quicker than Harper had hoped. She was the last to wake up out of the entire pack; Lydia had gone to see Parrish about the noises she was hearing, Scott, Malia and Isaac were looking for Chris Argent and obviously, Liam was at school.

The sunlight that poured through her windows made her eyes burn, and even as she rolled over in an attempt to ignore it, it just seemed to heat her shoulders uncomfortably. Harper gave up trying to sleep again when she heard her phone buzz, a loud groan falling past her rosy lips.

She picked up the device, her dark eyes squinting to read the screen.

STILES: facetime now? :)

"Ah, shit!" Harper gasped, suddenly jolting to life as she chucked the duvet off of her legs.

Like Bambi on ice, Harper dashed for the bathroom, gripping the edges of the ceramic sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. To say she looked like a mess would be an understatement- at least it would be in her opinion.

Her dark hair had seemed to frizz out in the humidity of her bedroom, the skin beneath her brown eyes becoming home to lilac bags. Harper's fingertips gently dragged across her cold cheek, noticing how pale she appeared.

Quickly, she grabbed her toothbrush and began to brush her teeth, multitasking by running her hairbrush through her locks. Once she'd finished two minutes later, she washed her face and put some concealer underneath her eyes, tying her hair into a bun. Unluckily for her, the brush had made her frizz problem a hundred times worse.

Harper moved to Isaac's room, a place Stiles had only been in a couple of times and sat in the corner so that her boyfriend wouldn't be able to see where she was. She hated lying to him, but Harper knew that she would hate herself more if he ended up coming home because she'd let their little supernatural problem slip.

She began to call the Stilinski boy, biting down on her lip anxiously as she waited for him to answer. He picked up after a few beeps, his face coming into view on his screen.

"Harper!" Stiles cheered, grinning as he looked at her through his own phone.

"Stiles!" Harper mimicked with a giggle, immediately forgetting all of her worries when she saw the adorable look on his face.

He had his phone pointed at his face from a low angle while he walked across the room. Harper heard him jump and then grunt before he was sat on his bed. Stiles moved the phone so that it was on his window ledge and he didn't have to hold it.

"How are you?" Harper asked gently, sticking to the plan of making everything about him, just like her friends had said to. "You been doing okay?"

Stiles' smile widened, "class is great. I think I talk too much and annoy everyone though."

The brunette chuckled, shaking her head. "Nothing's changed then." She teased.

"Hey!" Stiles laughed, and she knew if he was beside her then he would have jokingly hit her arm. "I've made friends with that Leo guy and some of his friends, so that's good... Just the nights that are hard, you know?"

Harper's heart seemed to physically ache in her chest when she watched his beam falter, his hazel eyes thick with emotion as he watched her send him a sympathetic smile through the screen.

"I got too used to just holding you to fall asleep, or at least being with you during the day. And then when I lay in bed at night, I find myself just wishing you were with beside me," Stiles admitted sadly.

Tears burned in her dark eyes, "Stiles," she croaked.

"Don't cry!" Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Harps."

"I just miss you," she whispered, managing another small smile to make him feel slightly better. "A whole bunch."

"I miss you a whole bunch too," the hazel-eyed boy sighed, "I have to admit that I did steal your jumper to hold sometimes when I feel really homesick at night. But it's starting to not smell like you anymore, so I try and burn the scented candles that you gave me instead."

Harper was in awe at his confession since she did the same thing. Well, she'd wear one of Stiles' shirts to bed and pull the neckline up to her nose, inhaling the smell of his laundry detergent and lingering cologne. Instead of making things sappy so they both started crying, Harper allowed her lips to tug up into a teasing smirk.

"You said jumper," she murmured, making Stiles' brows furrow together in confusion. "Stiles, you said jumper instead of sweater."

Stiles' jaw dropped as Harper began to laugh gleefully, clapping her hands. "I win! I win! You always made fun of me for saying that word, and now you just let it slip!"

"You're such a dork," he mumbled, smiling as he shook his head. "It's cause I hang around you too much. I'm starting to get things wrong, use wrong English."

"Wrong English!" Harper repeated, "the hell do you mean? It's from England!"

"You realise I make fun of everything you say because you're so cute when you get defensive, right?" He smiled.

"Stop it," Harper blushed, rolling her eyes. "You're being sickly today, Sti."

"I'm just happy to see your face," he shrugged, "since I didn't get to see you last night before bed cause you were on your flight."

Swallowing nervously, Harper nodded, "yeah."

"How's your roommate?" Stiles questioned casually, "made any friends yet? Bet you have."

The brunette's mouth dropped open slightly as she thought of what to say. She saw the way he looked at her hopefully, his hazel eyes endearing and innocent. He had no idea she was still in Beacon Hills, and it was crushing her to lie to him.

A sudden bang from downstairs snapped her out of her thoughts, making Harper flinch slightly. Stiles noticed, his brows furrowing, but before he could ask a question, Harper began to stammer.

"I-I gotta go now," Harper looked towards the door where she heard footsteps coming up. "I have to meet some people, fill in some forms. Love you, babe, bye."

Stiles was frowning in confusion, "I love you too-"

Harper hung up the phone just as the bedroom door snapped open, revealing Isaac Lahey himself. His dirty blonde hair was slightly messed up as his blue eyes searched the room, landing on Harper huddled up in the corner.

"Um, what are you doing?" He questioned.

"Ur, just chilling," Harper mumbled, pressing her hand to the wall to help herself climb off of the floor. "Stiles called, I didn't want him to know that I was still home."

Isaac nodded in understanding, "oh, right. Well, I don't know what Lydia's doing, but Scott and Malia are in Argent's underground bunker trying to find out where he is. We thought we could do with someone actually smart to figure it out."

"So I'm your second choice because you don't know where Lydia is?" Harper raised her eyebrows, feigning offence.

"No!" Isaac defended, "you're our third choice, but Stiles is at college."

Harper released a breathy chuckle, eyes twinkling in amusement as she slapped the werewolf on the arm. Isaac raised his hands in defence, laughing as he darted back away from the much shorter teenager.

"Just kidding, you and Stiles are probably joined clever, but under Lydia, still. The girl's a genius," Isaac disclaimed, and Harper had to agree. "So get out of your pyjamas and come on."

The Empath nodded, starting to head back towards her room. She'd have to call Stiles back soon, but until then, Harper had bigger concerns to worry about. Like where the hell Chris Argent was, and whether he had anything to do with the Hellhound trying to protect her... and against what?

...

Isaac led Harper down to the Argent bunker where Scott and Malia were, finding the pair looking in different sections of the room. The werewolf had grabbed a case of bullets and dropped them all onto the metal table in the centre of the room, creating an awful clanking sound.

"Anything yet?" Isaac asked casually, propping himself onto a stool opposite Scott.

Malia huffed, "he's not answering our texts or calls, he's not home, he's not here. I mean, maybe Argent just doesn't want to be found?"

Harper released an exasperated sigh, running her hands over the laptop on the table. "Do you guys know his password by any chance?" The brunette asked although she knew it was a long shot.

"Why would we?" Scott furrowed his brows, confused.

Harper shrugged, "maybe he keeps a calendar on it. It could tell us where he is. Who knows? Maybe he moved back to France or something."

"So we need to crack the password," Scott sent her a small, hopeful smile.

Malia smirked almost wickedly between the pair. "I didn't know you two had it in you."

She sat down on a stool next to Isaac as Harper pulled the lid of the laptop up. Harper bit her lip, thinking about what Argent would possibly have his password as. He was a smart man, surely it would be something strong. Probably capital letters, a dozen numbers and a symbol or two.

"Gun!" Malia gasped, typing the three lettered word into the laptop.

Password Failed! The computer beeped at them.

"Try 'lots of guns'," Isaac joked, his shoulders sagging when he saw the impressed look Malia held on her face as she typed in the teasing suggestion. "Mal, I-"

"You were wrong too," Malia huffed in disappointment as the screen came up with the very same notification from before.

"Malia, I was joking, babe, I-"

"How was that a joke?"

"Because-"

While Isaac and Malia began with their daily bickering session, Harper's eyes cast towards Scott who was providing no assistance whatsoever. Her best friend was bent down as he searched through the cabinets of Argent's bunker, brown eyes focused.

Slipping off the stool, Harper wondered over to him and placed her hand on his back, causing Scott to jump a little. He sent her an uneasy smile to which Harper raised her eyebrows at.

"Scotty, what was up with you last night?" Harper questioned, "you were... why did you think there were hunters back in Beacon Hills?"

Shaking his head, Scott pursed his lips. "I... I don't want to talk about that right now, Harps. We have bigger problems. Like finding Argent and working out whatever the hell came out of that rift."

Nodding her head hesitantly, she watched as the True Alpha clasped his hand over a metal lock and tugged at it, causing the chain to snap. He opened it up, revealing three pristine guns with tags attached to them.

"Oh wow," Harper muttered, taking a step back. "Guys?"

When there was no response from the couple who were still arguing, Scott raised his voice. "Guys!"

Their attention snapped towards their alpha. "I don't think that Argent took off from Beacon Hills. I think he's back in business."

Harper opened up another case, her jaw dropping slightly at the large crossbow sat inside. She lifted it out, showing it to the three other supernaturals. Scott's eyes narrowed on the weapon before his face lit up.

"I think I know what his password is," he marched towards the laptop while Harper scrambled to put the crossbow away.

A L L I S O N

Password Confirmed!

...

The four members of the pack found Argent being surrounded by men in army gear pointing guns at him. With their supernatural hearing, Scott, Isaac and Malia were made aware that they weren't letting Chris get away so easily.

"-and I always have a backup plan," Argent announced smugly.

Malia kicked one of the guys in the back, causing him to stumble down and slip into a state of unconsciousness. Harper peered down at him with a small wince, looking back up at Chris who appeared confused.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" He exclaimed as some of the men started to point their guns at the pack now.

"We're your backup," Scott nodded.

"I had a guy on the inside," Chris whined.

"Who?" Malia demanded.

"You're standing on him."

The group looked back down at the man Malia had knocked out. She awkwardly removed her booted foot from his chest while Isaac closed his eyes, realising that they had screwed everything over.

There was a moment of silence and Chris yelled, "get down!"

Harper, along with the rest of her friends, all dropped to the floor as the lights suddenly went out, leaving them in darkness. A hand grabbed Harper's wrist as rapid gunfire began to go off, causing a small cry to escape her lips. Guns were still one of her worst fears.

"Come on," Malia yelled at her, pulling the Empath behind a concrete pillar so that they were in the safety zone.

Harper held her hand over her heart as she looked to the left, seeing Chris crouched down behind some wooden crates. He nodded to Malia, gesturing for her to grab the man that she had knocked out. Malia looked at him as if he was crazy, shaking her head.

Slowly, the gunfire ceased while the men worked to fill their guns up with more ammo.

"Quickly grab him now," Harper whispered.

Malia rolled her eyes but listened to her best friend, quickly rushing over and grabbing the man by the arms. As she began to drag him back to safety, Chris stood up from behind the crates and started shooting, using the fact that the men were out of ammunition as an advantage.

The men started to shoot back, one almost hitting Malia in the shoulder. Harper grabbed Malia just in time, moving her behind the concrete and out of shooting range.

"Thanks," Malia breathed heavily, glancing down at the man that she had just saved. "But stay here."

"What? Why?" Harper hissed, watching as Malia began to sneak away.

She watched in silence as Malia crept with Scott and Isaac, making their way behind the men who were still concentrated on shooting at the pillar Harper was behind and the crate that Argent was using for protection.

Each supernatural grabbed a man and began to throw them to the sides, disarming them and knocking them out. Malia went to get the main guy, the one that had been being rude to Argent, when he stuck his gun in Malia's face, causing everything to go still.

Isaac growled, clenching his fists as a warning to the man who did not back down. Only when he heard a click behind him did he slightly falter, glancing over his shoulder to find Argent pointing a gun at him.

"Who are the guns for?" Chris demanded to know one more time as the man dropped his weapon.

Right as Harper thought he was about to confess, the man reached for a grenade and pulled it, dropping it to the floor. Malia and Chris took off running, Isaac grabbing Malia and hoisting her around the corner of a pillar.

"Scott!" Harper grabbed the other werewolf, pulling him with her.

Scott wrapped his arms over Harper's head, using his body as a shield as he tucked her away from the explosion that came only seconds later. Smoke and dust filled the air after the boom had settled, although a ringing sound echoed in everybody's ears.

"You okay?" Scott asked Harper as he helped her up from the ground.

She nodded, watching as Scott winced and rubbed his hand against his ears. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, watching in dismay as a car outside of the open space began to take off.

The man had gotten away. Everybody began to move to the centre, solemn looks on their faces.

"For the record," Chris sighed, lifting his hands. "I had everything under control."

"That doesn't sound like much of a thank you," Isaac muttered sarcastically.

"How did you find me?"

"You left your computer in the bunker," Scott explained.

"I guess I need a new password."

Harper scoffed, "yeah, maybe."

...

After helping Argent haul the crates of weapons back into his sleek, black SUV, the man released a deep sigh and slammed the boot of the car shut. Malia had her arms folded across her chest as she glanced at him expectantly.

"I haven't been avoiding you, I've been busy," Chris claimed, "business is booming, and I'd like to know why."

"Have you made any unusual sales recently?" Scott questioned.

"Like a bullet with a fleur-de-lis?" Isaac added more specifically.

The frown that had been tugging in between Chris' eyebrows seemed to soften slightly, his blue eyes shining with something undetectable to everybody but the Empath. Harper knew a piece of his heart had just broken. He was mourning.

"I haven't stamped a bullet since Allison died," Argent admitted softer.

Harper sighed, "well, someone just killed a Hellhound with one of them. A Hellhound. You know those things are pretty much invincible?"

"Can I see the casing?" Requested Chris.

Scott nodded and shuffled through the pocket of his jeans, trying to find the casing of the bullet that they had found left on the forest floor by Halwyn's dead body. When Scott's hand faltered and his brown eyes went wide, everybody realised what had happened.

Scott had lost the bullet.

The True Alpha's head snapped around to where he had just been rolling around across the floor, only to find hundreds of bullet casings already there from the shoot out that had just taken place. He sighed, briefly closing his eyes in defeat.

"It must have fallen out."

"You don't need the casing, you need the slug," Chris shook his head, "find that, and you'll find your killer."

...

While Scott, Isaac and Malia went with Chris to find Halwyn's place of death, Harper went back to the McCall household to try and get a hold of Lydia. She hadn't been answering all night and the brunette hadn't seen her during the day either.

After Harper's phone went to voicemail for the second time, she gave up and place it screen-down on the kitchen table. She pressed her elbows to it and rested her head in her hands, releasing a stressed sigh.

The front door opened, making her jump up a little.

"Scotty?" She called, brows furrowed when no response came. "Isaac? Melissa?"

The front door closed.

Silence.

She heard heavy feet brush themselves against the doormat, followed by the low whistle of a man. Keys were placed down into a dish beside the door and the shuffling of a raincoat could just about be picked up.

Harper's first instinct was that it was Raphael McCall, or at least that's who she really hoped it was. What concerned her was the way that they didn't call back to her. Agent McCall would have called her name back or something.

The brunette shuffled around the kitchen island and picked up a knife, ducking down and covering her hand with her mouth. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly as she heard the booted feet slowly start to make their way up the stairs one at a time, each step creaking under the man's weight.

Harper took a deep breath and as soon as she heard him walking around upstairs, she silently climbed from the floor and started to make her way to the front door as swiftly as possible. Her socked foot stepped on a floorboard that happened to groan beneath her.

Everything froze.

The man upstairs went silent.

Time went by agonisingly slow.

Harper's clammy hands shook by her side, her death grip on the knife tightening even further- if that was possible. She heard deep breaths from upstairs before the footsteps started growing quicker- and they were heading for the stairs again.

Without hesitation, Harper ran for the door. She ripped it open and released a cry as she slammed it shut behind her, stumbling down the wooden porch door and to the jeep which was parked closest to her.

Her hands worked desperately against the door handle, her head continuously whipping back to see if the man was out of the house yet.

"Harper?"

"No!" The teenage girl screeched, stripping herself from the hand that had reached around her arm and pointing her knife directly at the person.

Chris quickly held his hands up in defence, the rest of her friends stood behind him with confused and concerned expressions painted upon their faces.

"What's going on?" Scott's eyes widened at the knife in her hands, "and why do you have that?"

"Cause somebody's in the house!" Harper hissed, panicked as she lowered the weapon and gulped in the direction of the building. "He didn't say a word and he just went upstairs, but when I tried to get out he started bolting it for me."

Malia held her nose to the air and took a long sniff. "I don't smell anyone."

"Well, I know what I heard!" Harper claimed in exasperation. "I don't know who the hell it was, but he's still in there."

Chris cocked the gun that he had ready in his hand, starting to move towards the house. He held the gun up as he threw open the front door, pointing it straight out.

Nothing happened.

"Anything?" He looked to Scott who was glancing around with his red eyes.

Scott shook his head, "nothing."

Harper's lips parted as she frowned, "he put his keys in the dish a-and-"

"There's no keys," Isaac deadpanned, "just this."

He held up a note.

in ultima pugna. timere

...

"He killed every supernatural in the Closed Unit?" Isaac repeated, his blue eyes wide from where he was perched against the kitchen table in the McCall household.

"All of them?" Harper squeaked, Lydia's story adding to her nerves.

Lydia nodded, "he said he couldn't see it any other way."

"Well, I've got another way," Malia scoffed, "you don't kill everyone."

Lydia had been hearing noises. Beeping sounds that sounded so particular in her head, but she couldn't recognise what it was. The Banshee went to Parrish for help, seeing as all of her friends were occupied with Argent, and they'd both realised it was from the doors in the Closed Unit of Eichen House.

Parrish had gone alone, but Lydia had seen him get shot by an Orderly. She'd gone to go and get him, and saved him thankfully, however, the Orderly had wiped out every single supernatural creature there.

"I think he was afraid," Lydia shook her head.

Scott's eyes widened in realisation. "The wolves, the rats. It keeps coming back to the same thing: fear."

"But what is everyone afraid of?" Malia frowned.

Scott went silent before he placed the casing of a bullet down on the table. Everybody stared at it, Harper wrapping her arms around herself as some form of comfort.

"Us," he deadpanned, "we don't know what fear would do to somebody. It can change them. They'll look at us differently. They'll do things that they've never done before."

"People are stupid," Isaac rolled his eyes.

"They're not stupid, they're scared," Lydia disagreed.

"The most common emotion I feel linked with fear is anger," Harper swallowed regretfully, staring around at all of her friends. "And angry people do dangerous things."


	21. Chapter 21

Only an hour had passed since the incident.

Harper sat on the couch in the living room, her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. Malia sat half asleep next to her, her brown eyes straining to concentrate on the television in front of them. Some reality show from the early 2000s was playing, not particularly grabbing either girls' attention.

"How long do you think I'll be on house arrest for?" Harper murmured tiredly, lifting her head from her knees to look at Malia.

The werecoyote glanced over at her best friend, thankful for a distraction from the prissy girls on screen. "Until this whole thing blows over."

"Scott's being way too overprotective, I-"

Malia shrugged, "I think he's being totally reasonable."

Harper shot her a look as if to say 'why the hell aren't you on my side?'

"He is your brother, Harps. Plus, Stiles made him promise," Malia added the last sentence in a quiet mumble.

The Empath jolted almost spastically, "he told Stiles!?"

"No," Malia rolled her eyes, "Stiles made us all promise to look out for you before he left for college. But he told Scott he'd kill him if you so much as cried."

Harper's face held a look that suggested she wasn't surprised in the slightest. "Sounds like Stiles."

Saying his name made her miss him even more, even if they had only been apart for a week and a half. Knowing it would be weeks and weeks until she saw him next made her heart hurt even more, but she didn't say anything. Harper simply blinked and exhaled quietly, relieving herself of the sudden sadness that had washed over her.

Scott came bounding in from the back door, a short blonde girl following behind nervously. Malia and Harper exchanged glances and sat up, wondering who the girl was and why Scott was looking so panicked.

"Brett's missing," Scott warned them, "Lori told me she thinks it could be a hunter."

"A hunter?" Malia repeated bitterly, standing up, "after Brett?"

Harper's lips parted in shock, "do you think it's the same one that killed the Hellhound?"

"Brett's not dead," Lori spat at her.

"Hey," Malia growled, standing in front of the younger girl, "you want our help? Then you shut up."

Lori backed down from where her fangs had barred at Harper, clearly intimidated by the flashing blue eyes Malia was sending her. The Empath wasn't annoyed at Lori, though. She knew that the blonde had acted out of fear, not personal hatred.

"Isaac!" Scott yelled, the werewolf appearing by his side a few seconds later. "You're on Harper duty. Malia, come with us."

The tall boy's jaw dropped slightly as he looked between Harper and Scott. "I'm on babysitting duty? Seriously? Why can't Malia?"

"Why should it be me?" Malia rolled her eyes at him.

Harper faked a smile at them all, "wow, guys. Don't argue about staying with me."

"Isaac," Scott flashed his eyes, "keep her safe."

...

"So... Do you want a Capri Sun or something?" Isaac offered from where he stood in front of the fridge, a can of coke in his hand.

Harper scoffed from where she was sat at the barstool a few feet away from him. She climbed up from her seat and moved over to the fridge, grabbing herself a can of Diet Cola.

"I am literally older than you, Lahey," Harper grumbled, "you don't have to take your babysitting role so seriously."

"Um, yes I do," Isaac stared at her as if she was stupid, "something is after you- something so bad that a freaking hundred-year-old Hellhound came back from the dead to try and protect you from it. Plus, Scott would literally kill me if I let you out my sight. And then Stiles would find a way to bring me back to life just to kill me again after."

"Well, you can't watch me when I'm on the toilet."

Isaac's left eye twitched out of frustration as he stared down at the much shorter girl. She sent him a smug smile and opened the can of cola, taking a few gulps. Harper ended up back at the barstool, her cheek resting in her hand.

"I feel so useless," she admitted, "cause I can't fight or look for missing people like Lydia."

Isaac's eyes widened almost comically, "wait a second! Can't you do that mist thing? Where it takes you to the missing person?"

Harper sighed, "tried that a few minutes ago. I only met Brett, like, twice. I never spoke to him either, I don't think."

"So you need a connection?" The werewolf asked, causing her to nod. He grinned, "you'd be good at hide and seek."

"Right?" Harper agreed with a small smile.

Harper lifted the can of cola to her lips, ready to take another sip when everything froze. Her heart lurched in her chest causing her to heave forward, her palms smacking against the cold counter. Isaac dove around to grab her, catching her body as it began to crumble from the high seat.

An agonising pain twisted in her stomach, and she felt warm blood start to pool there. Her hand went under her jumper and she pulled her fingertips back, revealing the crimson liquid. Isaac's eyes widened in horror, lifting her top up to the edge of her bra to reveal a hole in her body.

"Oh fuck," he hissed to himself, "is this Scott?"

She remained shaking in his arms, her teeth chattering as she clawed to lift herself back up. "Let me go!" Harper started to scream, taking Isaac by surprise, "get off me, you freak!"

Isaac released Harper, her knees smacking the kitchen floor too hard. The blue-eyed boy began taking steps back, his hands up in defence as he watched her dry sob, lifting herself from the floor. His heart pounded when she turned, seeing the fear-stricken expression on her face.

She called him a freak.

"Stay back!" Harper warned him, "I'll kill you. I swear to god-"

Blood dripped on the floor below, starting to look like something out of a crime scene.

Isaac panicked, "Harper, what's-"

"Y-you're a freak of nature, y-you-" Harper began to stumble on her words, her brown eyes rolling into the back of her neck.

She fell down again, crumbling like a doll. Isaac rushed to her body, pushing the dark curtain out of her face. She was paler than usual, but she looked calm again as she slept. Small breaths escaped her rosy lips.

"What the hell just happened?" Isaac muttered to himself.

...

Everything was dark.

It was all Harper knew until she'd pushed herself up from the bed she was sprawled across. At that very moment, as her hand brushed against the mattress beneath her that was hard as rocks, she realised this was not her own bed. In fact, she knew exactly where she was.

Harper sprung up from the patient bed, thankful that her wrists and ankles weren't tied down like last time. Eichen House was freezing, as always, but she didn't know if that was why she had goosebumps or if it was due to the haunting singing coming from outside the room. It sounded oddly familiar, like an old woman.

The brunette gulped, her heart hammering in her chest as she slowly started to head to the door. Her dainty hand shook violently as she reached for the doorknob, unsure if she wanted to find out who was on the other side or not. The singing grew more distant, the old woman's voice shaking as she carried herself down the hall and away from Harper's room.

A small breath of relief escaped her lips, the pads of her fingers touching the metal of the door. Before she could twist it open, she froze.

"Where are you leaving to so quickly, my little dove? You just got here."

Harper's hand stuck to the door handle. She found herself unable to grip it properly, something inside her stopping her from leaving.

She felt his presence behind her before she heard him again. Cold fingers suddenly touched her bare shoulder, drumming against her tan skin and causing more goosebumps to erupt across her body. Harper felt his freezing breath by her neck, making her squeeze her eyes shut.

"Your fear smells so good," Void Stiles chuckled darkly, his voice as low and dangerous as the last time Harper had seen him, "oh, Harper, how I wish things had ended differently for us."

Harper swallowed hard, a small whimper accidentally escaping her lips. Her grip tightened on the door handle and Void removed his fingers from her shoulder, gliding his large hand across her arm to quickly wrap around her hand, preventing her from leaving.

"Stop," Harper pleaded, her eyes still closed. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see Stiles like that ever again.

"Look at me," Void whispered, "c'mon, Harps. He wants you to open your eyes and look at us."

Harper's eyes slowly flickered open, gasping at the sight in front of her. Void Stiles stood there in all his glory; pale skin almost translucent, purple bruising beneath his cold eyes, clad in that dark striped jacket. He looked exactly like the boy who often plagued her nightmares; exactly like Stiles from over a year ago- just sicker.

"I wish I was by your side right now," he hummed, fingers moving to brush against her cheek as tears brimmed her eyes. "So much fear in your life right now. Beacon Hills is plagued with it. Do you know how starving I've been since Scott bit me?"

"This isn't real," Harper whispered to him, but he smirked at the unsureness in her voice.

"This isn't real?" Void repeated, an edge of amusement to his dark tone as he stepped even closer to her, his chest brushing with hers. "You think this isn't real, Harper? Tell me, does this feel real?"

Suddenly his hand flicked forward, slender fingers wrapping around her throat and squeezing the life out of her. Harper choked loudly, tears pouring from her brown eyes as she was pushed against a wall. Void pushed her up further so she was off the ground, black spots beginning to dance in her vision. Her ears rung and her heart was heavy, each beat feeling like its last.

"Get the hell off of her!" A very familiar voice screamed.

"No," Harper wheezed, knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

An arrow was shot straight through the stomach of Void Stiles, the grip on Harper's throat loosening. She crumbled to her knees beside him, her hands on her neck as she tried to catch her breath. The Empath watched as crimson blood started to pool around the floor beneath her, Void's dark eyes losing their light.

"H-Harps?" He sounded like Stiles this time- the real Stiles. His voice cracked brokenly. "Harps... why did you let her do that?"

"Stiles?" Harper cried, a tear falling from her eye and landing on his cheek.

With that, his eyes closed and he released his last pained breath, blood staining his pale lips and trickling down his cheek.

"Harper!" Allison came bounding over, a proud smile on her face. "I did it! I took down the Nogitsune."

The huntress stood gleaming, fingerless leather gloves moving to push her bow behind them. She crouched beside the Empath, wearing a jacket thrown over a purple dress. She looked exactly how she had the day she died, and Harper knew exactly what was about to happen.

"No, no, no," Harper clamped her hands over her ears, "no, no, no."

"ALLISON!"

The wail of the banshee confirmed Harper's predictions. Over her sobs, Harper heard the slice of a blade and the choked cry of Allison Argent. Her body collapsed onto Harper who shrieked, watching as Allison's skin began to rot away.

"You can still save me," she whispered, "you nev- you never do."

As her eyes shut, Harper started to heave, panic swelling in her chest and working its way up her throat. She moved to shove the dead body off of her when a hand smacked down on her shoulder, causing her to glance up with widened eyes.

"It's time for the last part, Harper."

Doctor Valack grinned down at her menacingly, a twisted smirk on his face as his blue eyes gleamed in excitement. The bandage wrapped around his forehead was bleeding, streaming down his face and onto the cotton vest he wore. He reached behind him.

"Just... don't move."

A drill started up.

"No!" Harper started to scream again, and this time she didn't stop.

"Harper!" Hands were shaking her.

Abruptly, Harper's eyes snapped open and she whirled up in a panic, her hand resting on her heart. It was smacking against her chest uncomfortably, her cheeks already wet from the tears that had spilt while she had been unconscious.

"What the hell just happened?" Isaac yelled at her, his own hands trembling as he gripped the girl by the shoulders.

"T-there was Void and St-Stiles died and A-Allison was there and my dad and-"

"Before your nightmare!" Isaac corrected her, helping to guide her to the couch, "when you were screaming that I was a freak and threatening to kill me! A-And your stomach!"

Harper pulled the jumper back up, that being the last thing she remembered. It was still soaked in blood, smeared fingerprints across her skin from where Isaac had tried to stop the bleeding before realising this wasn't a wound that belonged to Harper.

"It's Scott," she swallowed, "it's definitely Scott."

"Oh shit."

"And as for the whole 'freak' thing... I have no idea why I said that, Isaac. I'm so sorry," Harper's blood-stained hand reached for his and she gave it an apologetic squeeze. "It's like... it's like something came over me that I couldn't control."

Isaac released her hand and rubbed his forehead stressfully. "When Scott gets back, we need to tell him about this."

His blue eyes suddenly cast to her neck, his fingertips moving to brush across the bruises that were shaped into a large, slender hand. Harper winced at the contact.

"Looks like Scott got strangled too," he muttered.

Harper kept her mouth shut, but she knew. That wasn't a wound from Scott; this one was one of her own. But it had happened inside her dream, like something out of Nightmare on Elm Street.

She also knew something else: she was not safe here.


	22. Chapter 22

Harper stood staring at her reflection in the mirror hanging on her bedroom wall, disappointed with what stared back at her. Her brown hair appeared duller than usual and purple bags hung underneath her eyes, making her look like she hadn't slept in a hundred years. Her dainty hand reached up, her fingertips ghosting over the bruising wrapped around her neck.

The dream had felt so real. So real that she'd actually woken with the injuries she'd earned from it. Her body wouldn't stop shaking, either. At first, she'd blamed having coffee at three am so she could stay up until Scott got back home safely, but it hadn't passed.

She felt sick.

Truth be told, Harper wished Stiles was home. She craved his strong arms around her small frame, wished she could hear his small sigh as he gently placed his chin on top of her head and pulled her into his chest as tight as he could without crushing her. Harper missed Stiles' smell, and what it felt like to receive random forehead kisses or be able to look beside her and instantly feel safe because he was there.

Her phone suddenly started to ring, causing her to practically jump out of her skin. She dove for the device which was hanging off the edge of her white bedside table, her heartbeat picking up when she saw his name across the screen and the same picture she'd had of him for the past three or so years. For a few moments, she felt alive.

Without even thinking, she accepted the call and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Stiles," she breathed, realising it had been well over a day since they had last spoken.

"H-Harper," he whimpered, and the brunette felt her blood run cold.

"Stiles! Are you okay?" Harper panicked as she listened to the sound of the duvet ruffling in the speaker. 

All of the worst-case scenarios had entered her brain and were running around, pointing out every single 'what-if' and bad thing that had happened to Stiles before.

"Sorry if I woke you up," he sniffled, and Harper desperately wanted to admit that she hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours anyway. "I- I just- I had a nightmare."

Harper felt relieved that her boyfriend was in no physical danger, but her heart ached for him. She wished she was with him right now, so she could tell him everything was okay.

"Like- like those sleep paralysis ones you used to get?" The Verum girl asked, her eyebrows pulled down into a frown.

She heard a small sigh on the other end. "No. No sleep paralysis. I just... saw you."

"Am I that ugly I scared you?" Harper attempted a joke to lighten the situation, her hand ghosting up to her neck where her fingers traced over the hand-shaped bruise.

There was a small scoff and she could imagine Stiles shaking his head in disbelief. "I will never understand how you could ever be insecure when you look like that, Harper."

If only you could see me now, she thought, glancing at herself in the mirror where she silently decided she looked awful.

"I saw... I saw you," Stiles attempted to explain, "and it was you but you looked so weak and tired and sad. You- you were screaming and begging me to stop and I- I was just hurting you."

The brunette shivered slightly at the thought, memories of the hallucination she had just experienced filtering through her brain on repeat. That had not been Stiles, though; that had been Void Stiles.

"Stiles," Harper kept her voice soft in an attempt to calm his nerves. "It's okay, it was just a bad dream. I know you'd never ever hurt me."

Stiles released a shaky breath. "It just felt so real..." He mumbled, "and the look in your eyes. I've seen that look before. When Void would hurt you and I was just forced to watch."

"Everything's okay now," Harper cooed down the phone, "you're okay, Stiles."

"S'not me I'm worried about," he mumbled, and the covers rustled against the speaker again.

Harper hesitated before she whispered, "I'm okay, too. I'm okay, Stiles."

She hated lying to him more than anything in the world, but he'd done a lifetime of protecting her, and now it was her time to protect him.

...

"They were murdered."

Harper felt queasy as she watched Scott lift up the metal pole covered in the blood of both Brett and Lori. The Alpha slammed it down onto the metal table in front of him, shaking his head.

"Killed by the new hunters of Beacon Hills," Scott announced, disappointed. "You know, when he took out the Hellhound, we thought it was luck. That we were dealing with an amateur. But now we know that whoever this new hunter is, he has a teacher."

Chris Argent didn't look up from where he stared at the ground of the bunker, his arms folded across his chest. "Gerard. Which means this is my fault. I'm the one who let him go."

"You couldn't have done anything," Lydia attempted to reassure him.

Malia frowned at her, "he could have killed him."

Chris and Isaac both tilted their heads to the side as if saying that the werecoyote had a point. Normally, Harper would scold Malia for saying something like that, but she had to admit that this time she had a point. Gerard, again and again, proved himself a terrible human being.

"Just saying," Malia grumbled at the look Lydia shot her.

"We're not executioners," the strawberry blonde pursed her lips.

Isaac shrugged, "you are when it comes to war."

Scott nodded, "that's why we're gonna make peace."

"How?" Harper scrunched her face up, "I'm sorry, but you really think Gerard is gonna wanna make peace with a bunch of supernaturals when he's literally been killing them for, like, a hundred years?"

"Harper," Scott sighed in a warning tone, almost like he was her actual big brother. "You know what's coming. We all keep using the same word."

"War," Isaac muttered.

Everybody stared at each other for a few seconds, silence filling the bunker. Harper started to wring her fingers together, trying to ignore the thin layer of sweat covering her body and the internal heat that was only growing hotter. It agitated her like nothing else, and she felt like she could snap any minute.

She had no idea why, but she'd been feeling this way since last night. The best way she could describe it was that it was like the moments before a panic attack when you know it's going to happen. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, her head heavier than usual, and her skin on fire. She was on edge and she had no idea what for.

"So what stops a war from happening?" Malia finally spoke up, looking to Chris optimistically.

"Peace summit."

"Right," Scott nodded, "we need face-to-face with Gerard. Find out what he wants and then we stop all this before it gets any worse."

"The last time Gerard was at a peace meet was with Deucalion," Lydia reminded him, "he blinded him and then killed everybody else, including his own men."

Chris thought for a moment, "I'll go," he offered, "know he's not going to kill me."

Isaac scoffed in disbelief and crossed his arms. "Are you sure about that? Gerard Argent. That is who we're talking about, right?"

"Not really," Argent admitted, although he didn't sound nervous at all.

Harper could feel it though. In fact, it was all she could feel. Anxiety. It had been following her around like the plague all night and day. She had no idea why, though- and it was starting to scare her.

"All we need to do is found out what he wants," the Alpha spoke, "then we can bargain."

"Even if he does agree, his terms might be difficult to meet."

"Well, that's why it's a negotiation," Scott answered, "I don't expect to get anything without giving something up."

"Then you're gonna have to figure out just how much you're willing to give, and how far you're willing to go to stop a war," Chris warned him gravely.

..

"Scott, just listen to me," Harper groaned as she followed him down the stairs of the house, wiping her head where she could feel sweat starting to prick at her unusually pale skin. "Please."

The Alpha who was marching ahead of her rolled his dark eyes. "There's nothing else for me to listen to you. You need to stay here with Isaac or Malia and I'm going to go."

Harper released an exasperated sigh, flinging her hands into the air. "Scott! Are you dumb? It's a trap!"

"She said that she would meet to talk," Scott turned to face her with a glare as he shrugged his jacket over his broad shoulders.

"Yeah, 'cause meeting alone in the middle of the tunnels with a werewolf hunter sounds like a really good idea when we're on the verge of a bloody war," Harper muttered sarcastically.

"Gerard is recruiting new hunters and he's murdering our friends," Scott attempted to persuade her, "he's not going to stop unless we convince him we're not the enemy."

Harper's bottom lip started to wobble as he looked her in the eye seriously. The McCall boy watched in confusion as the glare slowly slid off her face and the tears welled in her eyes. She somewhat resembled a toddler that wasn't getting their way, but Scott was still concerned. Harper had been acting weird lately, and the bruises that showed up from her hallucination were still a mystery to the pack and Argent himself.

"Harper?"

Suddenly, the Empath burst into tears. Scott jumped back in surprise, watching as sobs racked her body. She bent to cover her face from him, lifting her hand and biting on it to stop herself from crying too loud.

"Harper, what's going on?" He panicked, his large hand moving to hold her back as she cried.

"I don't know," Harper hiccuped, glancing up at him- and that's when Scott realised how terrible she really looked.

Her warm eyes looked cold, the circles around them a mixture of lavender and pink. Harper's skin which was always tan looked paler than ice, a sheen of sweat covering her. Her clothes were baggier than usual, her small body looking like it was being swallowed whole. Scott wondered how the hell he hadn't realised how bad she'd looked before, cursing himself for becoming so entirely wrapped up in this new problem when his best friend was literally deteriorating right in front of him.

"Something's wrong, tell me," he pleaded with her, "are you not feeling well?"

Harper shook her head frantically, "everything hurts."

His dark eyes were wide as her hunched figure almost tumbled forwards, his hand sticking out and grabbing his. He realised how badly she was shaking then, and how clammy her palms were.

"Wha- what-" Scott was looking around the living room swiftly, his hand still in hers as he pulled her up to hold her properly. "I don't-"

Truthfully, the McCall boy had no idea what to do. He wasn't sure where his mother was, and Malia and Isaac were upstairs. He could call for them, but what would they do that he couldn't? He mentally cursed the fact that Stiles and Lydia weren't here, they would know what to do.

"I can feel it," Harper's eyes closed and she grunted.

"Feel what?" Scott breathed.

"The fear. All. The. Fear."

...

Harper was curled up on her bed clad in one of Stiles' jumpers that didn't even smell like him anymore. She'd been left alone, again. Scott had left her with Isaac and Malia, but as soon as she told them what Scott was planning on doing they'd rushed off to go and stop him getting himself killed, followed by Lydia.

The brunette couldn't complain. If Scott had backup then he would be fine, and that's all she needed right there and then. For Scott to be fine.

She'd taken a shower, but her body wouldn't stop trembling. A movie played on her laptop which was sprawled on the edge of the bed, some random Netflix film she'd never even heard of before on the screen. Harper pushed the blankets off of her when she grew too hot, small pants escaping her lips.

Her phone began to blare and she reached for it, pressing answer without even looking at who was calling.

"Hello."

"Harper," Noah Stilinski's voice rang down the phone, much to her confusion. "I hope you're not too busy, because Parrish and I think we're going to need your help with something."

...

Harper folded her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows at the two men stood in front of her. The story that they had just told her was horrific, yet not at all shocking to the teenage girl who had been living in Beacon Hills for almost a decade now.

"So... this thing. It has no face, and it moved from the morgue?" Harper summarised, shivering slightly at the thought.

Parrish nodded, "we think it might be the thing that Scott says came out of the Wild Hunt. It causes fear to everyone around it."

The brunette frowned. "Okay, I'm having extreme déjà vu right now."

She rubbed her forehead, ignoring the look Noah gave her when he realised that her hand was shaking. The brunette bit down on her lip.

"Talk more," Harper ordered, "tell me more. I might remember."

"We... We think it's like the rats and the wolves," Parrish hesitated, not sure exactly of what kind of things Harper wanted him to say. "The thing causes fear and it wants us to end up like them. Rats so terrified that they tangle themselves up and eat each other."

Noah nodded, "or wolves so scared that they tear each other apart."

It was like some distant memory in Harper's head. She could hear a voice explaining something to her, but the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt. She shook her head, upset with herself that she couldn't help them put a name to this faceless corpse.

"Could it... could it be like you?" Noah suggested, and Harper was taken aback and slightly offended. "Or well, the opposite of you, really. You feel it, it emits it."

Harper shrugged, and then she felt an overwhelming sense of panic in her chest that caused her heart to skip a beat. She held her chest for a second, her eyes going wide and she shook her head.

"Some- something's wrong," she spat, feeling Noah's arms move around her frame and help her into an upright position. "My friends. Scott."

"Where are they?" Parrish demanded.

"The tunnels."

...

"I don't know how I knew you were in trouble," Harper mumbled from where she was tucked under Scott's arm as they walked up the drive towards the back door of the McCall household. "I just knew something was wrong with you guys, and it didn't have to be physical pain this time."

Isaac helped her upright when she started to tip the other way, sending Scott a concerned glance. "Yeah, well, you saved our asses. So thanks."

"D-did it really have no face?" Harper mumbled, grimacing slightly.

"None," Lydia whispered, eyes wider than usual.

"Is it what the Hellhound from Eichen was protecting me from?" She asked.

Scott swallowed, "we think so. Once we get inside we're sitting down and you're telling us everything that's going on with you. Everything."

He opened the backdoor, leading them all into the kitchen. The pack jumped when they saw a bloodied woman sat in one of the chairs, her hair wet and tears on her face. She stood, almost stumbling over to them. Malia and Lydia quickly helped to balance her.

"She's a werewolf," Scott sensed.

Malia frowned, "who did this to you?"

"A hunter?" Isaac added.

The woman shook her head. "A deputy."

"They've got a deputy?" Lydia repeated in disbelief and horror.

Scott clung to Harper tighter. "They've got everyone."

...


	23. Chapter 23

"Talk to us."

Harper glanced up from where she had been playing with her trembling fingers, her dark eyes widening a little at the sight of her friends in front of her. Scott was leant forwards in the armchair across from the couch she was sat on, his brown eyes shining with concern.

Malia sat on the arm of his chair, Isaac beside her with his arms folded across his chest. From where Lydia sat perched beside Harper, she started to tuck Harper into a fluffy, cream blanket, sending her a reassuringly sad smile.

"I- I don't know where to start," Harper murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like I'm on the verge of tears every time I open my bloody mouth."

Lydia started to stroke her back as a comforting gesture, her green eyes trailing back to their friends who appeared equally as concerned for the brunette who looked like she was practically on her death bed.

"It's been ever since you passed out," Isaac mentioned, "and then you woke up with those bruises on your neck."

"Why did you pass out?" Lydia's face scrunched up, apparently not having received this information from anybody else in the pack. "And when?"

"The other night," Harper's hands parted from each other and they clenched into fists when she felt a particularly bad wave of anxiety crash into her. "When it was just me and I-Isaac."

"She could feel Scott's pain- when he got stabbed in the tunnels," the werewolf recalled, his eyes flickering over to Harper to see her staring at her hands in shame. "I tried to help her, but she started to scream at me. She told me to get off of her and that I was a freak or something."

Scott noticed Harper's embarrassment. "That wasn't you, Harper."

Malia frowned, "it was the hunters," she realised. "They're the most scared of us all. Harper can feel their fear."

"Harper can feel everyone's fear," Lydia agreed, "look at her. She's shaking like a leaf!"

The brunette almost blushed when she felt every pair of eyes on her, but she shook her head and nuzzled further into the covers, her heart beating so frantically that she groaned.

"And you woke up with those bruises on your neck," Scott reminded her as well as everybody else. "And some Hellhound came from a hundred-year sleep to protect you from whatever the hell came out of the Wild Hunt. Something is seriously wrong, guys."

Harper's forehead fell into her palm and she leaned over for a few seconds. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, feeling the tears pricking at the sides of her eyes. "I... I didn't want to say anything, but I've had a feeling for a while."

"What kind of feeling?" Malia furrowed her brows, her slender arms moving to fold across her chest.

"S-Since the last time I saw Sti," Harper admitted, her hand absentmindedly moving over her heart which was aching with nerves. "He told me that we'd be seeing each other soon... But it was like there was something in the back of my mind that he was wrong."

Scott glanced across to Lydia anxiously, both not knowing what to say to the brunette at all. Right there and then, Scott wanted to give in and call Stiles in case Harper's feeling was right. He had to shake the feelings away, telling himself that he wouldn't let Harper die or get worse.

"A-And I'm really fucking scared," Harper admitted, almost releasing a dry sob. "I'm scared I'll never see him again."

...

"Do you know what's wrong with her yet, Doc?" Scott chewed on his bottom lip.

Harper winced when Deaton's fingers ghosted over the bruises on her neck, his dark eyes squinted and judgemental. He lifted a light and flicked it on, examining her damaged skin further. The silence was almost deafening where Harper played with her hands on her lap.

Deaton ignored Scott. "Tell me, Harper. What was your dream about?"

"A lot of things, really," Harper admitted, "Eichen House. Void. Stiles dying. My dad..." Her eyes trailed over to Scott who was looking at her expectantly. "Allison."

She tore their gaze before she could see his reaction, glancing back down at her hands. Deaton hummed, turning the torch off with a satisfying click.

"It sounds like all your biggest fears," Deaton acknowledged, causing Harper's brows to rise slightly in realisation. "Were they all hurting you?"

"Not Allison," Harper shook her head, a lump in her throat. "Allison saved me."

"You've been dreaming of Allison since she died," the druid hummed, moving away from her and over to his desk where he pulled out a book. "For a while, you and Lydia shared the same dreams of her."

Harper nodded, "yeah. She always used to tell us the same thing. That we could still save her. B-but-"

Her body started to shake in pain and Scott dove forwards so she didn't fall off of the metal table, his hand on her back to steady her. Harper groaned, her arms moving around him and her eyes flickering shut.

"What did you feel, Harper?" Deaton asked calmly once it had passed.

Her eyes became teary, "fear."

...

"I'm not letting them out," Sheriff Stilinski shook his head, smacking the case files of the two supernaturals he had locked up onto the desk in front of him. "We've got two bodies covered in slash marks. They confessed to killing two people."

"Hunters!" Scott reminded him angrily.

Harper and Scott had left the animal clinic with no diagnosis or future help from Deaton, just that it was probably best for her to leave Beacon Hills. It was what Chris Argent had been telling them to do for the past day or so since his little negotiation with Gerard didn't go very well. All of them agreed that none of them were leaving.

"People, Scott," Noah corrected, "self-defence or not, they're still here. The other guys are dead. And there's a process I have to follow."

"Yeah, but you know what's happening around here. It's not safe for them," the Alpha snapped, his voice wavering.

"This may actually be the safest place for them in Beacon Hills," argued the sheriff, "at least I can protect them here."

"Would Stiles think that?" Lydia retorted from where she stood beside Harper, her arm wrapped around the brunette.

"Especially if one of your deputies is working for Gerard?" Malia added.

"I'm not buying that," Noah shook his head, "I know these deputies like the back of my hand. I know their families, their kids, their brothers and sisters. I know who they are and I trust them."

Isaac rolled his eyes, "seriously?"

"You know who they were," Liam agreed, "there's something out there. Everyone's afraid. And it's getting worse."

"You can't protect two werewolves from hunters if they're on the inside," Scott said.

Silence filled the room and Sheriff Stilinski glanced behind the pack where the woman from before was sat on one of the chairs. She had cleaned herself up, no longer caked in blood. However, a distant look still remained in her eye and she appeared traumatised.

"It's Quinn, right?" Noah questioned, gaining a nod. "You're sure it was a deputy that shot you? Absolutely, one hundred percent sure?"

Quinn nodded. "I saw flashing lights..." she began bleakly, "a police car. I... I saw a badge, a gun, and then they shot me. They shot me in the head and that's all I remember."

Noah breathed heavily, "there's a couple holes in her story."

"Maybe because there was a hole in her head," Lydia retorted.

Malia burst out laughing at what she thought was a joke, and even Isaac couldn't help but snicker. Everybody turned to them with disbelief written across their faces, causing Isaac's eyes to widen and he quickly smacked Malia's shoulder, shutting her up, too.

"I'm sorry," the werecoyote apologised with as much sincerity as she could muster, but when Isaac snorted again they were both giggling quietly.

"Noah," Harper murmured for the first time since they'd arrived, causing him to look over at her with softened eyes. "Please help us help them. Jaing and Tierney are in danger."

"And take them where? I can't let them go."

Isaac huffed, "if you keep them here they're gonna-"

"Look!" Sheriff Stilinski finally snapped, "if there's a problem-"

A small explosion came from outside that caused everyone to quickly turn. A blinding light came through the windows and Scott instinctively moved closer to Harper, unsure of what was going on. Noah peaked out of the blinds, his eyes widening at the sight in front of him.

"The hunters are all here," he rushed out to where all of the deputies were, "get away from the windows! Put your guns away!"

That was all Harper heard before Scott stirred her over to one of the seats, forcing her to sit down. Liam moved to her side, trying to use his werewolf hearing in order to understand what exactly was going on.

"Sheriff Stilinski's going out there," he whispered to her, watching helplessly as she closed her eyes and nodded. "Are you in pain?"

Before she could answer, the Dunbar boy reached across and grabbed her hand. Harper was about to ask him what he was doing when his veins began to turn black and he grunted. He pulled away quickly, shooting her a horrified glance.

"It's endless, isn't it?"

"I really hope not," she sent him a weak smile, and Liam had to smile back slightly at the minor optimism she still managed to hold despite everything.

"We have to get out of here," the suddenly heard Malia panic.

"Give him a chance, he knows what he's doing," Scott warned her from where he was still stood by the window watching.

"I am giving him a chance! He can talk all he wants, but we have to get the hell out of here!" The werecoyote continued.

Harper had no choice but to absorb the anxiety Malia was radiating, her body starting to shake harder. The deputies in the other room were scared, the hunters were scared, and her friends were scared. Her body felt hot with the emotion.

"How do we get Jiang and Tierney out?" Liam asked from beside the Empath.

"Screw them, it's Stilinski's job!"

"Malia, calm down," Isaac tried to console his girlfriend, moving forward and grabbing her arm, only for her to yank it away hastily.

"But it's our job to keep them alive," Scott reminded.

The door to Stilinski's office burst open and everybody jumped to defend themselves, eyebrows raising when Theo Raeken walked through the door. His face was contorted into anger, his head shaking side to side.

"Not mine," he grumbled.

"Do you want me to kill him?" Liam asked eagerly.

"No, just leave him. Can we please just go?" Malia pleaded.

"We're not going anywhere!" Quinn suddenly snapped, "don't you get it? We're trapped. They have all of the windows and the doors covered. We're going to die in here."

Harper rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath, "a little optimism would be nice."

Theo chuckled bitterly in agreement, "does someone wanna kill her?"

"Shut up!" Malia yelled in his face, her voice distorted.

Isaac ran over to her and pulled her back from the Chimera, his blue eyes shining with concern. She didn't pull away from him this time.

"Breathe, Mal," he smoothed over her shoulders, "you're shaking."

"I'm fine," her voice shook.

Lydia marched over. "Guys, there's only a dozen out there. We can take them."

Scott blinked at her in disbelief while Liam quickly turned to the Alpha, "Scott. They're the last of Satomi's pack. We can't leave them behind."

Scott looked around at all of his best friends, "okay. We go. And Jiang and Tierney are coming with us."

...

Once Liam had broken the two werewolves out from their jail cell, Scott was stood by the main exit with the rest of the pack. Harper's heart was pounding out of her chest and she desperately wanted to tell her friends to go without her. She wasn't sure she could go much further before her body caved in from anxiety.

"You ready?" Scott glanced behind him at his friends.

Lydia nodded while Malia bared her teeth at him. Isaac and Liam flicked out their claws, sending nods their way. Scott looked at Theo expectantly. He rolled his eyes and hesitated before extending his own claws, waving him like a trophy he didn't care about.

"Harper?" He asked softly at the quiet girl.

Theo squinted his eyes, "what is even wrong with you?"

He'd acknowledged how pale and exhausted she looked and the way she wasn't jumping around and offering ideas like normal. At first, he thought she was being totally pathetic because her boyfriend was nowhere to be seen— until he heard her heartbeat and realised he'd never heard anything like it before.

"Empath shit I didn't ask for," Harper replied distastefully and Theo shrugged in understanding as if to say 'fair enough'.

"Nobody's going anywhere," Sheriff Stilinski's voice boomed from behind them.

"I can get through them," Lydia said.

"We're not going to fire the first shot," Noah replied, "now get back from the door. All of you. Parrish, get these two back in their cell."

The deputy nodded from where he stood behind Noah, and moved forward to grab Jiang and Tierney. Harper watched in dismay as Scott stormed up to the man in charge, following him.

"What happened?" She asked softly.

"She gave us till midnight," he glanced between his son's girlfriend and best friend, watching as their faces dropped.

...

"I still don't have any service," Quinn muttered from where she sat beside Lydia and Harper, the three girls huddled in one of the rooms in the back of the station and surrounding a computer.

"That's because it's jamming our signals," the strawberry blonde grunted.

"What about t-the radio?" Harper mumbled, watching her best friend twist the dial.

"All I'm getting is static," she replied.

"Are they jamming that too?" Quinn snapped.

Harper understood that this woman had been through a lot over the past couple of days, but she couldn't help but be annoyed by her constant frustration towards the pack. The Empath rolled her eyes and leaned back in her spinny chair, doing her best to ignore her trembling limbs.

"It's not easy to find a jammer capable of disrupting a law enforcement transceiver," Lydia said, switching the button off. There was a moment of silence before she turned to the two girls. "Unless someone had access to it."

Harper's eyes widened and she glanced through the doorway where all the police officers were rushing around to barricade the doors and windows, preparing for midnight when the hunters were set to strike.

The lights suddenly switched off, plunging them all into darkness. Harper jumped from her slouched position, her eyes wide.

"Oh shit," Harper muttered, "this is not good."

Harper watched as some high school boy was thrown to the ground by an officer, one that made Liam extremely angry. She could barely hear the conversation between the blood rushing in her ears and the pounding of her own heart as she stumbled up from her seat. The exchange went by so quickly that she missed it, but she had to speak to Scott.

The Alpha heard her stumbling through the doorway and glanced up, his eyes wide at the sight. If she wasn't stood up and breathing as hard as she was, Scott would have said that she looked dead.

Suddenly, something was rolled into the room and somebody screamed, "get down!"

Scott dove as quickly as he could, his body colliding with Harper's and pushing her to the floor just as a massive explosion filled the room. White smoke filtered the air when they peeled away from each other, realising that it wasn't deadly.

"What the hell was that?" Isaac snapped

"A distraction," Scott breathed in realisation, helping Harper off of the ground.

"They said midnight!" Sheriff Stilinski roared with anger, charging for the door when Parrish grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

"The grenade came from in here," he warned Noah, "it was one of us."

Chills travelled down Harper's spine at the thought. Her eyes were almost rolling into the back of her head and she grabbed the long sleeve of Scott's shirt, silently pleading for him to look at her when Liam came running over, holding out a small capsule with purple liquid inside.

"Wolfsbane," Liam panted, "he was trying to kill them."

Harper glanced at the high school boy who had managed to sneak into the station, seeing the panicked look on his face as he waited for Scott's reaction.

"Scott, there's something else you need to see," Liam added, and then Harper was being gently pushed in the direction of Isaac and Malia while Scott rushed off with his beta.

Asshole, Harper couldn't help but think, although she knew Scott had a lot on his plate right now. Malia's arm steadied her from where she was stumbling a little on her feet.

Harper rubbed her forehead. "I don't think I'm gonna... I'm-"

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" The werecoyote realised, "being surrounded by the hunters and everybody else?"

Harper nodded and Isaac cursed under his breath, running his hand through his caramel curls while he scanned the area for somebody that could help. Suddenly, an arrow shot through the window, smashing the glass and landing straight into a concrete pillar. Screams echoed throughout the station and Scott and Sheriff Stilinski came running over.

Isaac grabbed the arrow out of the wall and pulled out the piece of paper that had been stuck through it. Liam snatched it from his hands and unfolded it, revealing a green number 7 with blood smeared across it.

"This is Brett's number," he breathed.

"They're trying to rattle us," Lydia realised.

"It's working," Theo noted, watching as Liam began to shake with anger, his eyes flashing golden.

A women's scream came from the room where the high school boy was being detained in, sending Noah and Parrish running yet again. Harper grabbed Scott's sleeve for the second time, finally getting him to look at her.

"Is it bad?" He pushed the hair out of her face that was starting to stick to her forehead, scanning her over.

"I don't think I can-" A few tears began to fall, and then a gunshot came from the same room that Sheriff Stilinski and Parrish had run to.

Scott tugged Harper with him, not wanting the brunette out of his sight, Lydia right behind them both. She gasped at the sight of Parrish laying down an officer's dead body beside a female officer who had been shot in the head, and Harper quickly realised they were killing themselves.

Lydia bent down to hover over them before her heart dropped. "It wasn't just fear..." She breathed. "It's in here with us."

"What do you mean?" Sheriff Stilinski reached for the gun in his belt, his heart starting to hammer against his chest.

"Whatever's causing the fear," Lydia explained, "the same thing that drove the wolves to kill each other. It's in here with us."

Scott felt sick as he glanced to the Empath who was breathing heavily. "Guys, Harper can't be here. That thing- that thing could kill her."

Noah glanced towards his girlfriend's son and held her arm. "Parrish!" He yelled so loud his face almost turned red. He looked back at Scott. "He's not the Hellhound that was meant to be watching over her, but surely he's better than nothing."

Scott nodded hesitantly, praying that Sheriff Stilinski's idea would keep Harper safe for the next ten minutes until it was midnight. Parrish came through the doors and Noah nodded towards Harper, telling him to take her out of the room.

Parrish sent the teenage girl a soft smile and gently took a hold of her, doing as the Sheriff had told him. Harper leant against his arm, her skin pale.

"Don't tell my friends," she murmured, "but I'm really fucking scared. I don't think I'm gonna make it, Parrish."

Parrish appeared alarmed by what Harper had told him, his blue eyes slightly wide as he moved her as far away from the room as possible.

"I won't let the hunters kill you, Harper. You and your friends are gonna be okay," the deputy attempted to reassure her, but she was shaking her head with a sad, tired smile.

"The thing that came out of the Wild Hunt kills Empaths without even trying," she explained, sounding almost sleepy, "I'm a deadman. Or woman. Or g-girl."

She chuckled to herself quietly, and then slipped into a peaceful state of unconsciousness.

...

"Scott, are you sure about this?" Lydia asked the Alpha from where she sat on a couch in the Sheriff's office, Harper's head resting on her lap while she brushed her fingers through her dark hair.

The brunette had been knocked out for about twenty minutes, but Scott was just thankful she wasn't dead yet. When pretending the two dead officers were the two werewolves the hunters were after hadn't worked, Scott seriously thought that was it. Then his dad showed up, and he had a plan, too.

"I'm not," Liam grumbled from where he sat backwards on a chair, "this deal sucks."

"But it's the only one on the table," Agent McCall warned them, "in a situation like this, the best solution is always to de-escalate. That's why you called me, isn't it?"

Sheriff Stilinski shrugged, "to be honest, I didn't think anyone was gonna show up."

Harper suddenly started to stir on Lydia's lap, causing the Banshee to gasp with excitement. Everybody glanced over as the brown-eyed girl blinked back to consciousness, her gaze falling on Agent McCall.

"W-Woah," she slurred with a small chuckle, "what the fuck are you doing he-"

"Hey," Lydia tried to hush her but smiled slightly when Harper didn't appear to be in agony like the last time Lydia had seen her. "We're working everything out, it's okay."

Scott quickly moved across the room, kneeling down in front of the Empath. "How are you feeling?" He stressed.

When he'd found out that Harper was unconscious, which had been revealed by a very panicked Parrish, Scott had almost had a panic attack. Not only was he terrified for his best friend, but he was already pulling his phone out and trying to call Stiles. Luckily, they had no service in the station and the rest of the pack had managed to shift him out of his anxious state when they assured him Harper wasn't dead.

"Better, I think," she croaked, "can you help me sit up?"

Lydia and Scott both helped her sit up on the couch, and while the girl could still feel a buzz of anxiousness in the centre of her body, she was doing so much better.

"My hands aren't shaking," she showed Malia proudly and the werecoyote almost awed out loud, sending her first-ever friend two thumbs up.

"Glad you're doing better, Harper," Agent McCall nodded in Harper's direction before turning to Scott. "Now, what do you say, son?"

Scott hesitated, looking to his best friend who could have died tonight. "Yeah. We'll go."

There seemed to some sort of tension in the air, and Harper could sense that it wreaked of sadness and worry, but she had no idea what the fuck her friends were talking about.

"Go where?"

"We're leaving Beacon Hills."

...

That night, everybody packed their bags. Harper could hear Scott bickering with his dad in his bedroom, but she sat with her head in her hands on top of her bed, wondering where it all went wrong.

Suddenly, it hit her.

"I remember," she lifted her head from her hands, looking at Isaac who was sat at her desk on his phone, texting Malia to tell her he was ready to go.

The werewolf glanced up from the device, brows furrowed. "Congrats?"

"Ask me what!" She jumped out of bed, flinging her arms about. "Never mind, I can't wait that long. I remember what my dad told me."

Isaac cringed at the mention of Valack. "What did he tell you?" He hesitated to ask, wondering what the hell that psycho had to do with this problem.

"When I was in Eichen, I asked him why I was the last Empath. He said it was called the Anuk-Ite!" She shook his shoulders, "I've been trying to remember the name for fucking days, Isaac! He said they create so much fear that whole towns turn against each other, and Empaths get caught in the crossfire because of who we are."

"So we have a name to put to a face now," he nodded, "or rather... lack of face."

Leaving came around a lot quicker than Harper had expected. She told Scott and Malia what she had remembered as soon as they got in the car and away from Agent McCall, and Scott said they would speak to Deaton about it.

"When?" Harper huffed, staring out the window. "And where are we even going?"

"The animal clinic," Scott announced from the front seat, and Harper almost choked on her own spit. He smiled slightly at her reaction.

"What did you think we were gonna do, Harper?" Scott glanced back at her through the mirror and released a small chuckle. "Run?"


	24. Chapter 24

Harper was snuggled up against her sleeping bag where she sat with her back against one of the walls of the animal clinic, Liam beside her. They crowded around the iPad that Lydia had let them borrow, both their eyebrows pulled down as they watched a film.

"What are you watching?"

They both glanced up, Liam tapping the screen so it paused. Theo loomed over them, his arms folded across his chest and a judgemental look on his face. Harper realised he must be pretty bored here too, seeing as nobody was fond of him.

"The Goonies," Harper replied, partly showing him the screen. "You... You wanna watch it with us?" She hesitated to ask, sensing the boy didn't want to ask himself.

"Harps," Liam whined.

Seeing how much the brunette's offer had pissed Liam off, Theo nodded with a smug smile, his arms dropping to his sides as he took a seat on the other side of Harper who rested the iPad on her legs.

"As a matter of fact, Harper, I would love to," Theo unpaused the film for them, satisfaction filling his body when he saw how much it irked Liam.

Minutes later, while they were getting to the part where the kids discovered the pirate ship, Harper heard her name being called from across the room. She glanced up, meeting the eyes of Deaton.

"Be right back, guys," she huffed, handing the iPad to Liam who reluctantly shifted the screen so that Theo could see clearer.

She did a small jog over to the dark-skinned man who was hunched over a counter, about a dozen books surrounding him. She shot him a small smile which he returned.

"I see you're feeling better?" He acknowledged, "no longer shaking or sweating."

"It's gonna sound cheesy, but the more I'm surrounded by these guys... the better I feel," she gestured around the room to where all her friends were sitting around talking. "It's like all of the fear from the rest of the town is an absent thought."

"That's good," Deaton nodded, "I've been reading more. Trying to figure out what the dream meant, why you woke up with the bruises."

Harper raised her brows, leaning against the counter. "Find anything good, doc?"

"Perhaps good isn't the correct word for it," the all-knowing man spoke, "the dreams you and Lydia were having almost a year ago were because of Allison. I found a story, dated back three-hundred-years ago. About a Banshee and an Empath who were in love."

"Oh," Harper awkwardly rubbed her shoulder, wondering where this was going.

"The Banshee and the Empath had a son. When the son died, he appeared in the dreams, which were exactly the same," Deaton explained, "now, this is where I struggle a little. Do you happen to know Latin, Harper? I'm not too fluent."

The brunette shook her head, "not much... But Lydia does! Lydia!" She waved the strawberry blonde over who obeyed with a hesitant frown. "Can you read this for us?"

"I can try..." Lydia agreed, picking the book up. "Okay, um... Paene amissionis omnium damnato eligendum." She reread the words under her breath, before nodding. "I think it means, 'on the verge of losing it all, the lost soul must choose'."

"What does that mean?" Harper frowned at Deaton who seemed to be lost in thought.

"Legend has it that when the Banshee and the Empath dreamt of their son one night, they saved their son in their dream... and in real life."

"Okay, what the hell?" Lydia caught on quickly, her green eyes wide. "Is this about the dream you had of Allison?"

"Harper's dreams seem to have truth behind them," Deaton pointed to the bruises on her neck, left behind by the dream version of Void Stiles. "If this legend is true, and Harper can bring back wounds from a nightmare, then perhaps it is possible for you to bring back your friend."

"But neither of us are lost souls," Lydia disagreed, "and what does it even mean by choosing?"

Deaton shrugged, "I am afraid I am not sure. But don't completely dismiss the idea. This is Beacon Hills, after all."

...

Just being further away from Beacon Hills made Harper feel better. The constant anxiety that was taking over her body and making her physically sick had faded down to nothing, and she actually felt normal for once.

She sat between Scott and Malia in the backseat of Chris Argent's car, waiting for Lydia to receive the text from Isaac that confirmed their plan had worked. The werewolf was out with Theo and Liam where they planned on using Mason to lure Nolan, the high school boy, to them.

Right now it was just a waiting game.

The brunette couldn't help but feel bored, since Argent had refused to turn on the radio and her phone had died hours ago while she was playing games. Scott refused to hand over his, so she suffered in silence, thinking about the words that Deaton had shared with her only hours earlier.

Perhaps it is possible to bring your friend back...

She scoffed at the thought, shaking her head in dismissal. Allison has been dead for over a year now.

Harper decided to distract herself from her intoxicating thoughts.

"Eye spy with my little eye, something beginning with... 'S'," Harper broke the silence that the group had been in for at least thirty minutes, making Argent sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose.

Lydia rolled her green eyes, "Harper. Now is not the time."

"But I'm bored," she whined.

"We can tell you're back to normal," the banshee mumbled under her breath, no malicious meaning behind her words.

Malia shrugged, "I'll play."

Harper grinned excitedly at her, waiting for her to make her first guess. The werecoyote looked around the car, releasing a loud humming sound as she thought.

"Something beginning with an S..." she tapped her chin before she gasped. "Seat!"

"No," Harper giggled.

"Sun?"

"Nope."

Malia gasped again, a confident smirk taking over her face as she narrowed her brows at the Empath. "Surroundings."

"No!" Harper laughed incredulously, "it's a proper noun."

"I don't know what that means."

"Scott," Lydia sighed from the front.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Harper leaned forward and squeezed the strawberry blonde's shoulder. "We have a winner. It's your turn now."

"I'm not playing eye—" her phone suddenly pinged and she gasped, opening the text message. "Isaac said it worked."

"It's about time," Malia retorted, moving to open the door.

"Wait!" Scott spoke, and then the two grew silent.

"I hear them too," Malia nodded.

"Hear what?" Lydia asked hesitantly.

"Heartbeats."

"How many?" Chris frowned.

Scott tilted his head so he could focus, "ten?"

"More," Malia disagreed.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Are we breaking in or not?"

Harper glanced over to the building that Gerard kept all of his weapons inside. After Agent McCall had interrogated him, they were able to find out exactly what type of security the hunter had, and so the pack decided to use it to their advantage.

"Not," Chris answered, "the Armory should be empty by now."

Malia scoffed, "we can take down a few hunters if we have to."

"We're dealing with a dozen well-armed hunters who have orders to kill you on sight."

Scott, Harper, Lydia, and Malia all looked around at each other desperately, not knowing what to do now. If Stiles was here then he'd probably know what to do, Harper thought.

"How are we gonna break in now?"

With Gerard thinking that the pack were gone, now was their best and only chance of breaking into his warehouse full of weapons. Malia and Scott continued to argue with Argent for the next five minutes while Harper simply sighed and sat back, thinking about how they were just wasting time.

In a rush of adrenaline, Scott quickly grabbed the handle of his door and tried to get it open. Lydia frowned at him, asking what he was doing.

"I'm gonna lure them away so we can get inside," he said, causing Malia to reach over Harper and grab his hand. "We need a new plan!"

"Not a dumb one," the werecoyote retorted and Harper couldn't help but snort a little— that was the kind of stuff Harper and Stiles had been saying to Scott for years.

"I'll bring the thermite charges."

"We need them for the Armory," Malia shook her head.

Chris added, "the explosion will buy you time, but not enough to get in and out safely."

"Guys," Lydia called, only to be ignored by everyone but Harper who glanced up, thankful to have a distraction from the three who wouldn't stop arguing with each other.

"How about using the tunnels?"

"We could get underneath the building, but we still need to sneak in undetected," Argent shot down Malia's idea.

"Guys," Lydia repeated, her and Harper not taking their eyes off of the sight.

"The ventilation system?" Scott suggested.

"Same problem."

"Bloody hell!" Harper yelled, quickly catching the attention of everybody inside the car. "If you guys would kindly avert your attention towards the warehouse, you will see that they are leaving and Liam, Theo, and Isaac's plan worked."

"Thank you, Harper!" Lydia huffed, rolling her eyes at Scott and Malia who looked completely dumbfounded.

...

Argent went first. He opened the door of the warehouse, gun ahead of his body. He pointed it up towards the camera and shot it before letting the teenagers come through. Malia dumped the unconscious body of a guard on the floor by the door, sending Scott a proud look.

"The thermite charges will take care of the weapons," Chris said, "just make sure you're clear before they detonate. Okay?"

Scott, Malia, and Harper took off in the direction they had been told to go in. Before Malia moved around the corner, the Empath stuck her hand out and shook her head. Anxiety was wafting over like heat from a flame.

"Stop," she whispered, "there's someone there."

Malia sent Harper a thankful nod before taking off in a run. She knocked down the man with the large gun before he could even react, and Harper and Scott both exchanged amused glances. The werewolf grabbed her, the two jogging to catch up with Malia who was waiting for the door at the end of the hall to be unlocked.

It beeped open, curtesy of Argent and Lydia from the control rooms, and the three entered the storage room where the weapons should have been. Keywords: should have.

It was empty.

"What the hell?" Harper muttered, glancing around at all of the abandoned shelves and desolate crates.

Scott released a shaky breath, "they knew we were coming."

The intercom began to create static sounds before Argent spoke up. "Guys, get out of there now."

"Let's go before they all get back," Malia pleaded, and she and Harper were moving towards the door they had entered through, stopping when they realised Scott wasn't behind them. "What?"

"The scent," Scott muttered, staring at another door.

Malia lifted her nose higher. "It's Jiang and Tierney."

The pair stared at the door with hesitance, before Argent called over the intercom again, begging for them to go. Scott shook his head and rushed over to the door.

"Help me with this," he ordered Malia, who nodded.

They both wrapped their hands around the metal door while Harper watched helplessly while she tapped her foot against the concrete ground. It seemed no matter how hard the pulled, even the strength of two supernaturals wouldn't make the door budge an inch.

"No!" Argent's voice boomed again, "don't open that door."

"Guys-" Harper was cut off by the door finally sliding open, and suddenly a clicking sound began to ring out.

The three teenagers watched in horror as the other doors began to swing shut one by one, leaving them locked in the room. Malia immediately dashed to try and budge some of the doors open while Harper and Scott wandered into the room he'd just opened.

"What is this?" She looked around at the small room which looked like something out of a museum.

Her eyes shifted from the map on the wall over to a stand. Inside the clear case was a piece of flesh, Satomi's pack tattoo painted across it. Harper almost gagged, her hand flying to her mouth as Malia came running back to them.

"Where's Jiang and Tierney?" She asked.

"Right here," Scott blinked, and he looked defeated. "That's all that's left of them."

Harper started to leave the small room, pausing when she heard a small click come from somewhere to her left. She squinted her eyes, her heart dropping when she saw a line of red light shoot out and start to move around the room. It was a sensor.

Scott was about to step into it before the Empath grabbed his arm and pulled him back, shooting him a panicked look. Malia came over to see what the fuss was about.

"What is that?" She frowned.

"It's a motion sensor," Scott realised.

"If they already know that we're here... then why do they need a sensor?" Harper wondered out loud, to which Scott shrugged.

"I don't think we want to know."

Suddenly, the pipes above them started to rattle and bang. There sounded like a small crash and then Argent's voice rang through.

"Don't trip the sensors!" He warned, his voice muffled from where ever he was in the building.

Just as he said that there was another small click and motion sensors about five feet high started up, making Harper's eyes widen. Scott thought fast, realising that the sensor didn't reach as high as the top shelf and he ran forward.

"Come on!"

Harper leapt over the sensor that was on the floor, and the one that was above went straight over her head as she reached the shelves where Scott was already on top,

"I didn't even have to du- duck," she managed to lamely laugh as Scott yanked her short frame onto the shelf, her body on top of his.

Malia was right next to them, her eyes wide as she breathed heavily, thankful to have escaped the sensors. Just as Harper was about to peel herself off of Scott's chest, another sensor turned on right above her head, causing her to duck again.

"Oh shit," she muttered, "don't tell Stiles," she joked and Scott raised his eyebrows at her as if to say 'really? right now?'.

Malia glanced around them, her eyes widening on a lock across the room. "I think I have an idea. I think that's our way out."

"You won't be able to get there without tripping a sensor," Scott panicked.

"Trust me."

As soon as the sensor had moved from above them, Malia was jumping up and grabbing onto one of the poles attached to the ceiling. Harper rolled off of Scott's body, the two of them on their stomachs beside each other so they could see properly.

"You got this, Mal," Harper encouraged, watching as the werecoyote swung her body across to the other pole.

She reached the padlock and grunted, her fingertips barely brushing it. She swung her body back and forth again, trying to pick up some speed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of watching Malia swing, the short-haired girl managed to knock the padlock down.

"Yes!" Scott and Harper cheered, watching it fall to the floor.

However, suddenly, there was a blaring noise and gas started to pour from holes in the ceiling. The padlock must have touched one of the sensors. Harper gasped, pulling her sweater over her mouth and nose as Scott fell from the metal shelf, and Malia accidentally let go of the pipe. They both fell to the ground with loud grunts.

The brunette realised it was getting harder for her to breathe in the room. Her chest felt tight and her eyes watered as she listened to Scott and Malia start to gasp. She blinked and suddenly Scott and Malia were sat together against a pillar, and she wondered if she had fallen unconscious for a few minutes.

"Harper?" Scott wheezed.

"Hello," Harper replied drowsily, "I have idea."

"What is it?" Malia grunted.

Harper decided to save her breath and thought about Chris and Lydia, squeezing her eyes shut. Grunts escaped her lips and she tried hard to connect to one of them, but with her body being so weak it felt like one of the most stressful tasks ever.

A tingling feeling filled her heart and she could feel it spreading across her entire body. Most importantly, she could breathe.

"I did it!" Harper gasped, her chest heaving as she took advantage of the fact that she could breathe in a room full of little oxygen.

Does that mean if I connect to someone while I'm swimming that I could breathe underwater? Harper shook away her unrelated thoughts, silently scolding herself for going off-topic before she was lowering herself from the shelf.

Her knuckles burnt as she dropped to the hard floor, quickly rushing over to Scott and Malia who looked as confused as ever. She brushed some of Malia's hair out of her eyes and looked around the room frantically. Before she could climb up and rush to the door, a loud explosion echoed from outside.

"What the fuck?" Harper stumbled back, momentarily forgetting about holding the connection and losing her breath.

She wheezed when she heard gunshots echo from outside but closed her eyes, focusing yet again. Scott's hand edged forward and he gripped her hand, silently telling her that she could do it. Harper released a small scream as she strained, and the relief flooded her body once again when she had connected to someone outside.

Harper waited for the gunshots to stop, but they never did. Her friends were growing worse by the minute, sweat caking their skin and their breaths shallow.

"Scott? H-Harper?" Malia whispered.

"Try not to talk," Scott mumbled.

"I don't want to die," she muttered, "not like this."

"Stop wasting oxygen," Harper scolded her, looking around the room. "If I move the shelves over, I might be able to climb through the trap that Malia opened."

Scott managed to shift his body a little, shaking his head with a grunt. "No. Too dangerous, Harps."

"I can't not do anything," Harper shook her head.

"Isaac and I were supposed to go to France," Malia ignored her and started to panic. "I'm eighteen. I haven't been anywhere. There's still so many things I wanna do."

Harper felt tears sting her eyes. She grabbed both their wrists and focused on pushing relaxing energy into them, and Malia managed a small smile.

The brunette turned her head to the side, "help us!" She yelled.

A scream from outside followed and Harper began to choke up on happy tears, watching as the steel door started to warp.

"Lydia," she whispered.

Finally, the door fell and a gush of air came flying in, causing the pair from behind her to start gasping. Harper disconnected from whoever she had been connected to before, allowing her body to soak up some real oxygen.

Lydia ran inside, heading straight for Harper who flung her arms around the strawberry blonde.

...

"They're Nemetons," Chris pointed to the map that they had stolen from Gerard's warehouse where points had been marked.

Melissa frowned from where she was glancing at it. "What does Gerard want from them?"

Mason's eyes were wide. "If they're like the ones here, then they're beacons for the supernatural."

"Soo..." Harper folded her arms from where she was stood next to Lydia, looking at the four of them. "He's planning on killing every single supernatural being?"

"He's not planning on stopping with Beacon Hills, is he?" Melissa chewed on her bottom lip.

"He wants the whole world."

The front door suddenly slammed open, making Harper jump. Now that she was back in Beacon Hills, where the Anuk-Ite was and where everybody was in constant fear, she could slowly feel her body starting to get worked up again.

Agent McCall stood in the doorway. "Where's Scott?" He ordered.

Melissa sighed, "he's upstairs. Why?"

"He can't leave," he said, taking everybody by surprise, "no one can."

"Nice to see you've changed your mind, but I'm afraid to ask why."

"It's Gerard's weapons," McCall announced in a slight panic as Scott walked into the kitchen, Isaac and Malia right behind him. "They've all been distributed legally to the citizens of Beacon Hills. All of them, and at no charge."

"He just gave them away?" Scott gaped.

"No," Chris muttered, "he's arming his army."

Everything went silent. Harper could feel the anxiety building in her again, her fingers reaching to pinch each other as a coping mechanism that only worked when she was dealing with her own anxiety- not the whole towns.

Lydia was staring off into the distance, a worried look on her pale face.

"Get down!" She suddenly screamed, followed by the window smashing.

Arrows came flying through as Harper threw herself to the floor next to Lydia and Mason. Lights began to flash, red beams shining through as gunshots went off. Harper's heart was pounding erratically now, distant memories of being shot in the police station by Matt surfacing in her brain.

The gunshots didn't stop, glass flying everywhere as Lydia tried to protect Mason from next to Harper. The brunette suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her stomach, not knowing if it was her or somebody else who had been shot.


	25. Chapter 25

A series of voices echoed as if she was underwater, none of which Harper seemed to remember. Her eyelids flickered open and she released a small groan under her breath, only now realising how stiff her neck was. She lifted her head from where it had been pressed against the desk, almost jumping in her seat when she discovered where she was.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome."

Harper's brown eyes grew wide, settling on the girl at the front of the room. Allison's curled hair was long and she had a small smile on her face, her slender fingers fiddling with the thin blue scarf wrapped loosely around her neck.

Harper was frozen in her seat as Allison moved over to sit in the seat behind Scott, and the shaggy-haired boy turned around to hand her a pen with a side of awkward smile. The brunette's heart was pounding and she turned around to see Stiles scribbling on his syllabus, but he was sixteen again. They all were.

"Harper, please come to the front of the room," their English teacher, Mr Bridge, called, and Harper's heart dropped.

What the hell was this dream?

She stood from her seat, and that's when she realised this wasn't like any other dream she'd ever had. She wasn't watching from the outside this time, she was in control. Harper was lucid dreaming.

Harper obeyed the teacher and moved to the front of the room, glancing up at the sea of faces. Suddenly, all of her peers' faces began to fade away, including Stiles' and Scott's. She jumped when they were replaced with the faces of everybody she had ever lost.

People such as Allison, Aiden and her own grandmother to Matt Daehler and her father and brother. They all just sat there. Staring. Not a single trace of emotion on any of their faces.

Harper turned back to face the teacher, eyes brimming with tears and a frantic look on her face. She ran a hand through her dark hair, realising it was no longer Mr Bridge but Stiles, or rather Void Stiles.

She released a humourless chuckle, "bloody hell am I tired of you popping up in my dreams."

Void was leaning against the desk behind him, his slender fingers drumming the wood as he chuckled quietly himself, shaking his head at her.

"Paene amissionis omnium damnato eligendum."

"What?" Harper breathed, taken aback.

Void repeated the phrase slowly, this time in English. "It means, little dove, 'on the verge of losing it all, the lost soul must choose'."

"C-Choose what?" Harper stammered, feeling the bile rise in the back of her throat as memories of Deaton explaining just how real her dreams could be filtered her brain.

"I'll let you think about that one," Void hummed lowly.

The tears began to trail down her cheeks. "I have to choose me or them, don't I?"

"No," Void bellowed with cold laughter, and Harper felt herself relax slightly, glad she wouldn't have to be giving up her own life anytime soon. "You, my lost soul, you must choose which one."

"Which one to what?" Harper shuddered as he came up behind her, his lips close to her ear.

"To save."

Silence filled the room, Harper's eyes trailing back to the room of motionless people. Her eyes landed on her grandmother and she choked back a sob, wanting nothing more than to run into the old woman's arms and tell her how much everything had changed since Rose had passed away.

"Why?" Harper choked, "why do I get to save someone?"

"Oh, Harper," he practically cooed, "the supernatural universe works in strange ways, doesn't it? It's not too complicated. In the extremely, extremely rare case that a Banshee and an Empath grow close enough to lose someone together, they have the chance to bring that person back."

Harper's eyes landed on Allison.

"Why a Banshee and an Empath?"

"The amount of pain Empaths feel, the amount of death Banshees experience. Think of it as God's way of saying sorry," Void spoke in a mocking tone, "you know, the only other Empath that got to bring someone back did so with no questions, no hesitance."

"Deaton said the Banshee brought back her son."

"That's what you're focused on? The little details? Really, little dove?"

Harper chewed on her bottom lip. "This is a dream and I'm going to wake up in a minute."

"You were shot. You are the lost soul, Harper. You will not wake up until the decision is made."

She'd been shot?

"What decision?!" Harper cried out in frustration, feeling tears blink their way down her cheeks as she turned to the demon in a frenzy, practically pulling out her roots.

"Who. Do. You. Pick?" Void Stiles spat, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look back at the faces. "Are you going to surprise Lydia with her ex-boyfriend?" He pointed to Aiden Steiner.

"Will you give Isaac one of his best friends back?" He steered her chin roughly in the direction of Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd.

"Maybe your brother deserves another shot at redemption, hmm? Or you might want to treat yourself and go for poor old grandma Rose. Perhaps... Stiles would want his mommy back, huh?"

Harper began to sob, struggling to release Void's grip on her as she stumbled back. "Stop it. Stop it. I want to wake up. I don't like this. I want to wake up!"

"Pick one, or stay here!" Void roared, and everything went silent aside from Harper's sniffles.

She whispered a name.

...

His mother was going to be okay.

Scott blinked back his tears as he left her hospital room, silently shutting the door behind himself. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest any moment now. He shook his head as if to rid himself of all of his thoughts and problems, but it didn't work.

He flung open the door to his dad's hospital room, pausing when he found an empty bed with brand new, clean sheets. Scott backed away in a panic, wide eyes landing on Sheriff Stilinski who was bounding over.

"What the hell?" He breathed, "where's my dad?"

"Transferred to San Francisco Memorial," Sheriff Stilinski explained calmly, "he's going to be fine."

Scott sighed shakily, "okay. And what about Mason?"

"Already out of surgery."

"Lydia?"

"She's all right, too. Bullet missed everything that mattered, luckily."

"And Harper?"

Sheriff Stilinski hesitated, watching as Scott's face crumbled. He clamped his hand over the teenage boy's shoulder and stirred him from the middle of the hallway so they were by some chairs.

"Harper's... Harper got out of surgery ten minutes ago. They got the bullet out of her stomach just fine," Noah reassured him, "doctors said she's shaking and overheating, though." He lowered his voice, "I think it has something to do with whatever was happening to her at the station the other day."

Scott gave a short nod, dread filling his stomach. If Harper was getting bad again and she'd been shot, he guessed it would be a lot harder for her to recover again as she had before. He turned around, getting ready to go find the girl in question.

"Scott, we're going to do everything we can to catch whoever did this," Sheriff Stilinski assured him.

"You know who did this," Scott snapped.

The werewolf left him standing alone in the hallway, taking long strides to get to the hospital room that Harper was in. He peeled open the door, his heart dropping at the sight of her. He looked just as bad as his mother had, her skin so pale that she almost blended with the sheets and pillowcase beneath her frail body.

Her heart monitor wasn't steady like Melissa's or Lydia's or Mason's, it was beating fast. Scott took note of the sweat on her forehead and he collapsed into the chair beside her bed, hesitating before grabbing her hand that was tiny in his.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I'm so sorry, Harper."

The door clicked open and he quickly glanced up, finding Isaac and Malia stood in the doorway. They had been the only other ones, as well as Argent, who hadn't been shot in the drive-by. Isaac smiled at him sadly before glancing over to Harper.

"I think it's time," Scott whispered.

Isaac chewed on his bottom lip, "she's going to hate us, you know."

"I don't care," the alpha stated, "He deserves to know before it's too late. She's not doing good at all."

The couple said nothing, knowing Scott was right.

"Stiles deserves to know."

...

"Really?" A mocking laugh fell from Void's lips and he shook his head at the teenage girl, watching as she wiped the tears away from under her eyes and glared at him. "You are really picking her over your own flesh and blood?"

Harper's heart ached at his words, however, she refused to allow the demon to know that he had had an influence over her. She clenched her fists by her sides and nodded. It was what her grandmother would have wanted anyway. Rose had lived a long and fulfilled life.

"Yes," she breathed, "I pick her. I pick Allison."

There was a small silence before Void Stiles clicked his fingers, and suddenly everybody in the room disappeared apart from the deceased huntress in question. Allison remained motionless, staring ahead of her.

"Very well," Void huffed, "You must pick one more time before you go, though."

"I get to pick another person?" Harper gasped, her eyes shining with so much hope that Void grimaced.

"No, little dove," he shook his head. "You must pick Allison or you."

...

"Maybe if we find the other half we won't have to fight at all," Liam swallowed, looking down at the old mobile phone he had in his hand that contained a voicemail from the other half of the Anuk-Ite. "We stop the Anuk-Ite..."

"We stop the war," Scott agreed with an optimistic smile. 

It had been over a day since the shooting. Scott, Malia, and Isaac had desperately been trying to recruit an army, seeking help from Deucalion and even Peter Hale himself. However, when they realised it wasn't going to work, they decided they had to take down the Anuk-Ite. Without the creature, all of the fear would go away and they might be able to create some sort of peace summit.

Before Mason and Theo could head off in search of Aaron, the lacrosse player who was the first half of the monster, the doors to the animal clinic slammed open abruptly making everybody jump.

Isaac flicked his claws out, ready to fight when a mess of plaid and dark hair came stumbling through. He lowered his hand, eyes wide at the furious expression the person held.

"Where is she?" Stiles Stilinski snapped, "and why the hell aren't you with her?"

Stiles had been told the whole story. One minute he was studying in his dorm, and the next he was on the phone to a frantic Scott who was trying to tell him his girlfriend might not make it through the night. Not only had she been shot by a hunter, but some creature that had wiped out the rest of her species was going to make her next.

"I've been with her," Scott tried to console his best friend, holding a hand out in defence. "But I've also been trying to stop the Anuk-Ite before she gets worse, Stiles."

"Where. Is. Harper?" He demanded again.

"Let me take you to her," Deaton appeared in the doorframe, his voice as calm as ever. "I need to check something anyway. I read more of the book... and I think it could save Harper's life..."

...

Stiles had been sat by Harper's side for hours. He'd shifted the chair closer to her bed so he could grasp her dainty hand in his, his head occasionally falling to rest on the mattress her frail body laid against. Now and again, doctors would come in to check on her vitals, but none told him when she would wake up.

His eyes were rimmed red from crying, his cheeks sore. He'd never seen Harper look so weak, and while he wanted to be furious with her for lying to him and putting herself in so much danger, he couldn't help but just be glad she was breathing for now. Scott, though? He was mad at Scott.

Deaton told him about the dream Harper had had a few days ago when the Stilinski boy saw the bruises fading on her neck. In fact, he told him everything he could— the old story about the Empath and the Banshee and how Harper could potentially be able to bring Allison back.

Somehow, that news was more shocking than the fact that there was some creature called the Anuk-Ite in Beacon Hills. The thought of Allison Argent being alive again was something Stiles hadn't considered for over a year now. He'd managed to move on, but the possibility was still exciting.

Suddenly, the monitor beside Harper's bed started to beep slower, indicating that her heart rate was decreasing from its abnormal rate. Before Stiles could panic it was about to slow to a stop, his legs ready to jump from the chair and grab a doctor, the beating grew steady and normal.

Stiles relaxed at the sound. It was much calmer than the noise he had been listening to before. He wondered why she had calmed down— maybe she could sense him? He began to stroke her hand with his thumb, a gasp sticking in his throat when he saw her eyeballs move beneath her eyelids.

"Harps?" Stiles cooed gently, "that's it. Wake up for me. I'm right here, baby."

Seconds later, he swore he saw her eyelashes flutter and then her eyelids were slowly being peeled open. Harper blinked at the bright and intense lights, parting her dry lips and croaking out purely meaningless incoherence.

"Harper," Stiles gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, you're okay."

"S- Stiles," he heard her utter under her breath, and her brown eyes were then attempting to focus on him. "Hi."

"Hey," Stiles laughed, his voice cracking slightly before a sad smile took over his face, the backs of his fingers stroking her cheek. "I thought you were never gonna wake up."

"I shouldn't be," she croaked, much to Stiles' confusion. "I picked her."

Deaton perked up from where he was sat at the back of the room, his head in Harper's files that read all of her medical history and the surgery she'd just had to retrieve the bullet wound from her stomach. The doctors were struggling to explain why she was shaking and her heart rate was so high, insisting that she should have gone into cardiac arrest already.

"You received the dream," the Druid stood from his seat and moved closer so she didn't have to strain to see him. "Tell me what happened."

Harper gestured to her throat. "May I have some water first please?"

Stiles nodded, swiftly turning and grabbing his cup from the side. He handed it to the brunette, helping her to sip up so she could take sips. Her throat instantly felt more soothed, and she noticed how her hand wasn't trembling when she held it.

"Take your time," Stiles placed his hand on her knee and it was only then that she realised Stiles Stilinski was back in Beacon Hills.

You did get shot, she reminded herself and focused on the dream she'd just had instead.

"It was weird," Harper frowned, not releasing her boyfriend's hand. "It was Allison's first day at Beacon Hills, but I was called to the front of the room and it— it was Void. He made me pick."

"Pick what?" Stiles asked, his eyebrows tugged down into a frown.

"Who to save," she breathed, "everyone was there. Erica, Boyd, Harry, Aiden, even my dad. And my grandma. She was there too."

Stiles noticed the tears that pricked in her eyes and he could hear it in her voice that she was not okay. He gave her hand a small squeeze.

"He told me to pick one to save, and I picked her. I picked Allison," Harper sniffed, "and then he made me pick between her or me... and I picked Allison again."

Her boyfriend immediately felt the urge to scold her, his heart dropping at the sentence that had left her lips. He couldn't decide if she was being selfless and heroic or dumb and stupid. Either way, he shook the thoughts out of his brain and pursed his lips. Harper was here, and that was all that mattered.

"But it must not have worked, because Harper's still here... right, doc?" Stiles said, turning to Deaton.

"This was what I thought would happen," Deaton spoke, moving to the bag that was beside his chair and pulling out the old book that he had read to her the other day. "I was doing some extra reading after you had all left, and I found another passage a few chapters later."

"What does it say?" Stiles questioned, frowning at the Latin printed down beside a picture of a mother and a father holding a baby.

Deaton hesitated, "Harper, can you tell me how Stiles is feeling right now?"

Harper opened her mouth to say 'of course I can', however, as soon as she turned to assess the boy, it was like she had come face to face with a brick wall. Everything froze for a moment and she felt panic settling over her.

"Wha- what's- why can't-" She began to freak out.

Stiles immediately grabbed her arms, trying to console her. "It's okay," he brushed her hair with his slender fingers. "What's going on, doc?"

Deaton pursed his lips. "Harper did sacrifice herself for Allison... just not her whole self."

The Stilinski boy's eyes widened and he began to choke on nothing. His brain almost couldn't comprehend it, not being able to remember a time where Harper wasn't an Empath. He turned to see how his girlfriend was reacting, finding her sat with raised brows and a dazed expression on her face.

"Harper's not an Empath anymore."


	26. Chapter 26

"Okay, so Scott, Isaac, and Liam are at the school because they think Mrs Finch is the other half of the Anuk-Ite, Mason and Theo are looking for Aaron, and Lydia and Malia are trying to revive a dead Hellhound," Stiles sighed stressfully as he switched his phone off with a satisfying click and pocketed it.

He glanced over at Harper who was changing into a black skater skirt, zipping up the side so that her knitted black sweater was tucked inside. Her face was void of emotion, but she looked much healthier than before as she reached forward and grabbed her hairbrush off the desk, running it through her thick, dark locks.

"Did you hear what I said?" Stiles questioned softly, his eyes widening when seconds later she was sniffling back tears.

He rushed over, taking her small frame into his arms and holding her tight. "Hey, hey," he cooed, "what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Sorry, sorry," Harper pushed her head off of his chest, wiping under her eyes, "I just feel like I've lost a really big part of myself. And I should be happy because I can't feel the whole bloody town's fear anymore... and I literally hated being an Empath, but..."

"I know, I know," he hushed her, stroking some fallen hair out of her face and behind her ears. "I mean, I obviously don't completely understand 'cause I'm just a human, but... but you will be able to work through this. I promise."

"A-and I just feel like I let my mum down," she whimpered, "and every other Empath ever. I was the last one and n-now they're extinct because of me-- and for all we know, Allison may never even come back."

"Deaton said that the son came back when the Empath and the Banshee needed him the most," Stiles reminded her softly, "we just have to wait and be patient, and everything will be worth it."

She wrapped her arms around his body, breathing in the scent of his cologne and instantly feeling a little calmer. Stiles rubbed her back, letting her stay there for a few minutes. To be honest, he was more than thankful that this happened. If Harper had remained an Empath, Deaton said she wouldn't have made it another few hours- not with the two sides of the Anuk-Ite so close to merging together.

"I'm happy you're back," he barely heard Harper murmur against his chest, but he felt the vibrations tickle past his shirt. "I missed you so much."

Stiles squeezed her tighter. "I missed you more, and I'm not going anywhere. Not until everything's okay again here, that's for sure."

It went quiet again for a bit, but Harper pulled away and looked him directly in the eye. She took in how hazel they were and how when the light poured in from the window behind her it made them appear golden.

"You're so beautiful," he said the words before she could, capturing her lips in his.

It was short but sweet, and everything Harper needed right there and then. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and gently pushed herself away from him, their noses brushing and her forehead pressed to his. He began to smile, making her smile too.

Her phone started to buzz from her back pocket and she yanked it out with a sigh, brows raising when she realised it was Lydia. 

"I should probably answer this," she murmured, clicking accept. "Hello?"

"Harper!" Lydia gasped, the couple immediately exchanging panicked looks. "You need to get to the hospital right now. It's- it's Halwyn. He woke up."

Harper's face scrunched up, "how? He had a bullet through his brain."

"It's a long story," the Banshee huffed, "just get here. Now!"

...

When Harper and Stiles found Malia and Lydia, the two girls were crouched on the floor of the MRI room, surrounding Halwyn. The Hellhound was holding his chest which was covered in slash wounds, and a silver substance was dripping from his nostrils and his lips.

"What the hell..." Stiles muttered, looking around the room at the splattered blood before back at the man who had supposedly frozen himself for hundreds of years in Eichen House to defeat the Anuk-Ite and save the Empath species.

"-you can't let the two sides merge," he grunted in pain, "if you do, you won't be able to catch it."

His blue eyes flickered up to face Stiles and Harper, focusing on the brunette girl who he had tried to save before he was shot in the head by Monroe.

"Verum," he coughed, more silver spilling past his lips. "I've failed."

Lydia appeared devastated as she moved to grasp his hand, letting him squeeze it through the agony he was in. Harper had no clue what to do or say. Could he somehow sense that she wasn't an Empath anymore? She had no idea.

"We shouldn't have done this," the Banshee whimpered to Malia, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Okay, listen to me," he grunted, "if it finds its other half... if the two become one, do not look." He began to make noises of pain, his eyes flashing bright orange. "You can't... It will kill you with a look."

His hand slipped from Lydia's hand and his eyes slowly drifted shut. This time he was dead.

"So... It's like Medusa or some shit?" Harper asked, earning a glare from Lydia. "Sorry, sorry. Think I'm kind of becoming desensitised when it comes to death."

There was a small silence and Malia looked clearly amused, but nobody knew what to say.

"Scott!" Stiles suddenly cried, causing all three girls to look to him in a panic. "He's with Liam and Isaac right now. At the school. They're trying to stop the two from merging-"

"We have to go. Now!"

...

Liam watched as the Anuk-Ite began to take its form, transforming from Aaron to... something far worse. A purple mist stopped him from getting a good look. All he could see was red skin and bright purple beams that he guessed were its eyes. He growled, flicking out his claws as he prepared to go in for battle.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and he was being yanked out of the library, his body colliding with the floor. He felt the hands start to help him back up again, looking up with wide eyes to see Harper and Stiles.

He took quick notice of how much better the brunette looked than when he had seen her lying in her hospital bed or back at the police station, but he didn't have time to think as the older teenagers were forcing him to run with them.

"We have to run," Harper exclaimed, throwing open the doors to the main hallway.

"What are you doing?" Liam panted but ran nevertheless. "Quinn and Aaron merged, we have to stop them!"

"Can you just shut up for one second?" Stiles barked, "if you look at that thing, it will kill you, dumbass."

Liam shut his mouth.

Minutes later they found themselves down a hallway they had already passed, now sure that the Anuk-Ite had left the building. Lydia was stood in front of two bodies made of stone, a concerned look on her face. They had been hunters, the guns still stuck in their hands.

"How are we supposed to fight this thing if we can't look at it?" Liam sighed, glancing over towards the strawberry blonde.

"I have no idea," she said.

"We have to learn to fight without our eyes," a voice spoke from behind them, and they four teenagers turned to see Scott walking down the hall, Isaac and Malia by his side.

"Fight without seeing," Isaac frowned, "that means..."

"Deucalion."

...

Harper wiped the remaining makeup off from underneath her eyes, her body feeling uncharacteristically drained. She had gotten so used to feeling the buzz of everybody else's emotions in the back of her head, that now she felt sort of empty. Even if most of the time those emotions were negative.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't realise Stiles was in her room until his strong arms were snaking around her waist and pulling her close to his chest. She dropped the wipe from her hands, smiling at him through their reflection as he bent to leave a trail of kisses down her jaw and neck.

His hair was still soaked from the shower he had just taken, a few droplets falling onto the brunette. Stiles was already clad in his pyjamas, exhausted not only from his plane ride over but all of the crying he'd done at the hospital and the stress of having everything put on him at once. 

"Hi," Harper's hands gripped his and she turned herself around so they faced each other.

"Hi," Stiles repeated, letting her lean up on her tippy toes and wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers fiddling with the wet hair at the back of his head. "Oh my god. Do you hear that?"

Harper froze her movements, listening out for whatever Stiles could hear. She heard the running of water from somewhere down the hall, followed by soft moans. She began to laugh, her hand flying to cover her mouth as the two of them giggled immaturely.

"Is- is that Isaac and Malia in the shower?" She wheezed, and Stiles nodded. "Oh my gosh!"

She didn't realise how good it felt to laugh until she'd fallen back onto her bed, Stiles beside her as they both chuckled, shaking their heads. Eventually, the brunette curled up into his side, her leg flinging on top of his and her head resting on his chest. Stiles held Harper close, kissing the top of her head.

"I think I might finally have a good night sleep," he murmured, a yawn escaping his lips.

Harper smiled and snuggled even closer if that was possible. "Me too."

...

A wolf howling in the distance pulled the girl to her senses. Her fingertips twitched and moved to gently scrape across the carpet of shades of orange and brown she lay on. The leaves crackled beneath her weight, whistling lightly and rolling away as an icy wind blew past. Her pale skin was luminescent underneath the beaming moonlight, the black dress on her body blending with the trees and bushes to her left and right.

Only when she felt a tickle from the wind on her rosy nose did the girl jump up. Her dark hair sprawled like a curtain against her shoulders, masking her face which was covered in a layer of dirt.

The girl lifted her hand to touch her chest, a bewildered laugh escaping her lips when she felt the familiar feeling of a beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She was supposed to be dead.

All she could remember was lots of bright lights and lots of watching over people. As the seconds dwindled away, she remembered less and less of her time spent off of earth, her mind only focused on one thing:

Her pack.


	27. Chapter 27

Gold streamed through the windows, dancing across Harper's tan face and seeping behind her eyelids. Muttering some incoherent language under her breath, the eighteen-year-old shifted her cheek against her make-shift pillow, feeling him breathe steadily beneath her.

Eventually, she forced her eyes to flicker open, though they tried to resist the burning light. For the next few minutes, Harper lay in blissful silence, listening only to the small breaths that came from her boyfriend and the steady drumming of his heart.

Harper glanced up, studying Stiles' face for a moment or two. His button nose twitched a little, his thin lips pressing together as he released a sleepy sigh, his arm that was still wrapped loosely around her frame tightening ever so slightly. She couldn't help but smile, forgetting about everything else in her life that wasn't going right.

"Staring is rude, y'know," a deep whisper made the brunette gasp.

His broad chest vibrated from under her body where he started to laugh, bending down to press a kiss to the top of Harper's head. She lightly smacked his arm, playfully scolding him for making her jump.

"It's okay," Stiles hummed, his slender finger tracing patterns on her bare arm. "I'll let you stare 'cause you're so pretty."

Harper blamed the sun coming through the window for her cheeks heating up, however, she couldn't help but grin, nuzzling her face away from Stiles. He chuckled, his slender fingers absentmindedly reaching up to run through her dark hair. He parted a few small knots, feeling Harper's breathing grow steadier and her frame become less tense.

A small lump suddenly jumped on top of Stiles' stomach, causing him to groan out loud. Harper giggled and reached forward, her dainty fingers stroking through the ginger fur of Archie. Stiles rolled his eyes at the animal but rubbed his cheek anyway, smiling a little when he purred and began to settle in between the pair.

A door slamming from downstairs caused Archie to jump up, both teenagers freezing their movements. Harper quickly sat straight, jolting to get the covers off of her. Stiles had his hand on the small of her back, guiding her off of the mattress where they both scrambled to put shirts on. 

"Scott?" Lydia's voice echoed from downstairs. "Harper? Isaac?"

They both relaxed slightly at the revelation that hunters weren't breaking into Harper's house but still rushed to move downstairs anyway. Harper was first down the stairs, her eyes widening when she saw Peter Hale stood in her living room, smirking at the strawberry blonde.

Stiles was right behind her, his face scrunching up at the sight. "What the hell is he doing here?" He questioned Lydia.

Peter rested his hands on his hips as he glared at the teenage boy. "It's rude not to address people when they're stood in the same room as you, Stiles."

The Stilinski boy rolled his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asked one more time.

"Looking for Malia," Peter spoke defensively, "what are you doing here?"

Glancing over at Harper, Stiles' face scrunched up. He had no idea how to answer Peter's obvious question, and it wasn't like Peter didn't already know the answer.

"I'm looking for Scott. Why are you looking for Malia?" Lydia ordered, breaking the silence.

Peter hesitated, "parental concern... Why didn't you just call Scott?"

"Why didn't you call Malia?"

Stiles and Harper exchanged glances before the Stilinski boy huffed. "I'm sorry... Are we missing something here? Did we wake up a week late or something? Why's everybody trying to call Scott and Malia?"

Lydia sighed, "I can't reach him. Did he tell you where he was going?"

"Didn't even know he had left," Harper shrugged, feeling a little guilty for sleeping in with Stiles instead of helping the others as they should have.

"I can't reach Malia," the older werewolf stated, "there's reports that several cell phone towers in the area are down."

"Okay, yeah... Maybe we should be worried," Stiles pulled his phone out and checked the bars at the top, pursing his lips when he received the 'no signal' notification. "Is this..."

"Monroe and Gerard," the strawberry blonde realised.

"They're cutting us off from the outside, and from each other," Harper murmured.

Peter nodded at her, "which most likely means they've already started amassing troops on their side."

"Then we better find ours."

...

Peter huffed for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, his arms moving to fold across his chest. To say he was getting frustrated with hanging around a bunch of teenagers would be an understatement, especially when one of those teenagers was Stiles Stilinski.

"I'm just saying, you'd think he'd tell me before he was gonna leave, y'know?" The hazel-eyed boy repeated what he'd been saying for ages, "especially if it's a vital part of the plan and I'm the... well, you know, I'm the plan maker. His plans suck."

Harper raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. She could tell the werewolf walking behind them was on the verge of reaching forward and snapping her boyfriend's neck, yet she was still slightly entertained.

"You two wait out here," Peter snapped as soon as Stiles put his hand on the doorknob of the animal clinic. "Lydia and I will go in and look."

"Wha—" Stiles frowned, "why—"

"Just stay, please! For the love of god!" He slammed the door in their faces, leaving the couple out in the cold.

Harper was grinning at him slightly, and he just sent her an innocent shrug as if to say he didn't know what he'd done. The brunette hugged her arms closer to her body when the phone in the back pocket of Stiles' khaki pants started to ring.

He pulled it out, raising his eyebrows and answering. "Hey, dad."

There was a small pause while Stiles listened to Sheriff Stilinski on the other end.

"No, no, I'm fine," his gaze flickered up to Harper's, "yeah, she's fine too... Right now?"

Harper watched expectantly as he released a stressed groan. "I'm kind of busy right now, looking for Scott... Yeah. Okay. Fine. Yeah, I'll be right there."

He hung up and sent her a look. "My dad's in Argent's bunker."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine, but his deputies kicked him out," Stiles gritted his teeth, shaking his head. "And apparently Parrish said the hunters aren't just deputies now... they're nurses, teachers, doctors..."

Harper's heart sank at the thought. She wondered how it was possible that the people that she'd grown up with suddenly wanted to kill her and her friends. The fact that they'd forced Noah out of his role as Sheriff pissed her off too.

"I'll come."

Stiles hesitated before he shook his head. "As much as I don't really want you out of my sight right now, Peter and Lydia would do a far better job at protecting you from hunters than I would."

"I'm not an Empath anymore," she reminded him, "I'm not being hunted."

His large hand moved out and he brushed her hair away from her eyes, cupping her cheek. "The hunters don't know that," he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," Stiles promised, "stay safe and I love you."

"I love you, Stiles," she replied, giving him another kiss before he was bounding towards the jeep.

...

Before Harper could open the door to the animal clinic and ask what was taking so long, the glass door slammed open and barely missed her nose, causing her to gasp and jump back. A flash of red hair caught Harper's eye and she quickly grabbed the girl's arm, forcing her to turn around and face her.

"Hey, what happened?" Harper demanded, a soft edge to her tone as she glanced back to Peter who was just following. "What did you do to her?"

Peter rolled his blue eyes, "why do you just suddenly assume that I hurt your little girlfriend?"

Harper ignored his remark with a huff. It was no secret that the older werewolf was amused by the fact that Lydia and Harper had been together while Stiles was stuck with him in the Wild Hunt, even if it was a sensitive topic for the Stilinski boy who didn't like it, Harper who felt incredibly awkward, and Lydia who had only just got over her romantic feelings for the girl.

"He didn't do anything," Lydia told Harper, panic still evident in her voice. "But he worked out where Scott, Isaac, and Malia are. And they're not safe, Harper. I saw it. I saw everybody turn to stone."

Harper's eyes widened, "Oh shit."

Peter scoffed before he seemed to notice Stiles' lack of presence. "Hey, where's your other little girlfriend?"

The brunette sent him a death squint, "my boyfriend is helping Sheriff Stilinski." She started to march towards Lydia's car. "Come on, guys. We gotta get to Scott and warn him."

...

It was dark by the time the trio made it to where Scott was, and the weather had decided to take a turn for the worse. Heavy rain chucked itself down upon Harper as she climbed out of the backseat of Lydia's Toyota, running towards the pillars that Scott, Malia, and Isaac stood underneath with Deucalion.

She didn't care that she was being practically blinded by the weather or that the white vintage Star Wars tee she'd snuck from Stiles' wardrobe was going slightly seethrough, she just cared about warning her friends. Harper swore if she had to lose anybody else then that would be it, especially if it was Stiles or Scott.

"Scott!" She panted, not stopping until she was under the concrete shelter with them.

Scott's hands immediately moved to grasp under Harper's arms, his entire face contorted with concern. As soon as he saw Lydia right behind her, he seemed to know what she was going to say. This was a warning.

"None of us are going to survive this," the Banshee cried.

"Why... What are you guys doing here?" Scott glanced behind the two teenage girls at Peter.

"They're coming," the oldest werewolf panted, "Gerard, Monroe and more... and they have heavy firepower."

Everything went silent for a moment as Scott breathed hard, not knowing what to say or to do. This entire situation was so much pressure for the eighteen-year-old that had barely scraped through high school, and now he was being trusted with the lives of dozens of supernaturals.

Gunshots ripped through the air.

Isaac was quickly grabbing hold of Malia to protect her, everybody watching as bullet after bullet went clean through Deucalion's body. Harper was sure if it was daytime she would have been able to see the sunlight shine through the other side, her stomach twisting and bile in her throat as she watched the Alpha werewolf drop to the floor, barely breathing.

Everybody whirled to face where the bullets had come from, finding a row of hunter stood by with machine guns. Monroe, a woman who Harper had had the privilege of not yet meeting, stood behind them all, a small smirk on her face as she watched the supernaturals quickly take off for cover.

Harper jumped behind one of the pillars just in time as all of the hunters started to fire mercilessly. Her breath was caught in her throat, her eyes wide and horrified as she glanced to Lydia who was beside her, neither of them believing that this was their fate.

Even when Stiles and Harper had helped Scott find out he was a werewolf, she didn't think anything like this would happen. She recalled the moments where it was just the three of them, and how their biggest concerns were Allison's family of hunters. Now, their biggest concern was a town full of them. Talk about a full circle.

Harper simply laid her head back against the pillar and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for some miracle to happen.


	28. Chapter 28

Being so close to death made Harper reflect on what had exactly led her here in the first place. All of the people she'd loved and lost, all of the places she'd been and seen, and all of the things she'd done that no other person could ever relate to in a thousand lifetimes.

Not a day went by where she didn't think about the time Scott and Stiles broke into her house ton beg for her to go body hunting with them as if it was some normal thing teenagers did in their free time.

Sometimes she regretted it, like when Allison died or when Stiles was possessed by the Nogitsune, but most of the time she didn't.

That night had become the reason for so many things.

While Harper's fate was destined to tangle with the supernatural on her eighteenth birthday anyway, she couldn't help but feel so grateful that it had happened two years earlier. Otherwise, chances were that right now she'd be locked in Eichen House with no idea what an Empath was, or why her father wanted to drill a hole into her head. Her friends wouldn't have known where she'd gone or been able to save her either.

Harper liked to believe that she would have ended up with Stiles anyway. Maybe not as soon as they did, since they only spent so much time alone due to Scott being wrapped up with Allison, but she couldn't see herself with anyone else and the thought of Stiles loving another girl made her sick to her stomach.

Thoughts of her mole-speckled boyfriend seemed to calm her nerves a little. Well, as much as your nerves can be calmed when you and your friends are becoming targets for a dozen hunters with machine guns.

They were getting closer.

Harper wasn't sure how close since she wasn't as daring enough to look as Scott was, but each round rang in her ears so loud that she was almost sure they would start bleeding. A bullet hit the pillar by her face, blowing a massive chunk of concrete off and causing her hand to slap over her mouth.

Scott glanced over towards his best friend, his eyes growing wide when he saw a hunter approaching her silently from the other side.

"Harper!" Scott screamed, managing to dive over to her and somehow avoid the rapid crossfire.

The brunette felt his arms go around her and tug her into his chest when suddenly the screeching sound of a vehicle pulling up beside them echoed in her ears. Scott and Harper glanced up, expecting to be dead already, their eyes widening when they saw the familiar blue jeep.

"You didn't think you're doing this without me, did ya?" Stiles leaned out of the window, sending a wink to his girlfriend who gaped at him like he was a god.

"Without us?"

Scott and Harper's heads both whipped to face each other with alarmed expressions, barely processing the fact that Derek Hale was back in Beacon Hills— and he was there to help them.

"What the fuck!?" Harper screeched as his eyes glowed blue and he roared, taking off in the direction of some hunters and jumping higher than the lamp post beside him. "Where the fuck did he come from!?"

Derek seemed to have an easy time taking down the hunters, thankfully providing confidence to the others with supernatural abilities. Malia was slamming men into walls while Isaac helped, Peter somewhere among the men where he got his revenge for them actually making him fear for his life.

Stiles was by Harper's side in seconds, his hand grasping hers as they watched Monroe quickly climb into the back of one of the vans, the remaining hunters following. Their tires screeched on the gravel as they drove away, sensing that they were about to become the losers of this fight.

"Are you okay?" Stiles quickly turned to her once they were out of sight, his hands moving to her cheeks where he scanned her entire body.

Harper managed a small smile, placing her hands on top of his and squeezing. "I am, thanks to you."

"Gerard..."

The couple glanced over at the deep English accent, frowning when they saw Deucalion sat against one of the pillars. His eyes appeared misty, his skin pale. Crimson liquid trickled from his lips as he held his hand over one of the many wounds on his stomach.

Scott was crouched in front of him, panic evident on his face as he took the older werewolf's spare hand and tried to take his pain. It was obviously hard for Scott to watch someone else he cared about die like this and not be able to do anything about it, but Harper just hoped Allison would come soon- if the whole thing wasn't a hoax like she was starting to believe.

Both Stiles and Harper had agreed not to tell Scott. They didn't want to give him false hope in case it didn't work.

"What he fe-fears the most," Deucalion wheezed, "he can't beat you..." he turned to Scott and sent him a strained smile, "and he knows it."

Scott blinked back the tears, releasing a shuddering breath as Deucalion's smile slowly fell, as well as his hand. Isaac moved to place his hand on Scott's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Malia swallowed, "it's really started, hasn't it?"

Scott stood up, his eyes landing on Derek. He moved over swiftly, capturing the man in a hug. Surprisingly, or less surprisingly the more Harper thought about it, Derek hugged Scott back just as hard.

"As much as I enjoy this impromptu family reunion..." Peter grumbled from beside them, "what are you doing here?"

"I found a pack slaughtered in Brazil," Derek answered, and it felt insanely strange and nostalgic to hear his voice again after all this time. "There were two words written in blood on the wall 'Beacon Hills'."

The McCall boy's eyes widened hopefully, "you came back for Beacon Hills."

"No," he shook his head, "I came back for you."

Before anything else could be said, the radio from the jeep started to come to life, creating static sounds. Everybody's heads flipped towards it and Stiles quickly jogged over, Harper right behind him.

"Blood and destruction," Gerard's voice came from over the radio, "dreadful objects so familiar. All pity choked with custom of fell deeds..."

Stiles chucked open the door and climbed into the front seat, Scott placing himself in the passenger side to listen clearer. Harper's hand was rested on Stiles' thigh from where she stood outside with everyone else, her eyes wide.

"Ceasers spirit ranging for revenge. With Ate by his side come hot from Hell. Shall in his confines with a Monarch's voice..." His voice trailed out, static taking over before Gerard continued. "Do you know the rest, Scott? Do you know your Shakespeare?"

Derek nodded so Scott lifted the radio to the werewolf's lips and let him talk. "'Cry, 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war'."

Harper didn't know what was more confusing; why Gerard was quoting Julius Ceasar to them or how Derek seemed to know it off by heart.

"War, indeed," they could hear Gerard's grin, "welcome back, Derek. You must all be feeling rather nostalgic. Are you pleased with the little family reunion I've gathered around you, Scott?"

Scott scoffed, "yeah, why don't you come join us and I can thank you in person."

"I even have a few visitors for you... From London."

When Harper glanced up from where she'd been glaring at the radio, she rolled her eyes at the group who were all staring at her as if she would know who Gerard was talking about.

"Don't look at me," she whispered, holding her hands up, "my whole family are dead."

"Even someone like Jackson Whittemore couldn't resist coming back to Beacon Hills," Gerard chuckled, "say hello, Jackson."

Electricity being fired echoed in everyone's ears, followed by the gritted screams of the boy that Harper hadn't seen since she was merely sixteen-years-old. Lydia flinched at the sound, turning her head away from the car while she was forced to listen to someone she once loved cry in agony.

"Do it again, old man," they heard Jackson in the background, "come a little closer. I'm gonna shove that thing so far up your ass-"

"Lost none of his charm, has he?" The hunter cut him off, "you can find him here with us at the Armory, Scott. In fact, I'm going to tell you where you can find all of them."

Harper exchanged a concerned glance with Stiles, his hand reassuringly grabbing hers as they listened to Gerard start to list.

"Your Deputy Hellhound met some friends of his while responding to a call at Eichen House. Your father was on his way back from San Francisco with the goal of entering the fight, but he didn't get far. You might want to tell your mother to skip her shift at the hospital tonight- Liam and his friends are there now. Optimistic of them, but woefully ill-advised."

Isaac groaned slightly, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, we have so much work to do."

"This is how you wage a war, Scott," Gerard continued, "the strategic positioning of your army against theirs. Which is why you will come to me. You will try to save as many as you can, and you might even save a few... but your limited resources will be spread thin. Ultimately, you will fail. The dogs of war, Scott... they're coming for you."

...

Harper flipped the 'opened' sign in the glass door of the animal clinic to 'closed', taking her time after to glance out of the window. After being shot less than a week ago and almost getting shot again an hour ago, the brunette wasn't taking any chances. From what she could see, nothing loomed in the darkness waiting for her or her friends. They were alone.

"Hey."

A small squeal escaped Harper's lips and her hands moved to hide her face, her entire body shrivelling as if she had a shell to hide in. Derek stood a couple of feet behind her with a small smirk on his face, scoffing and shaking his head in amusement at the girl.

"You can't just make people jump like that," Harper scolded him with her hand above her frantic heart. "I thought you were over your appearing out of nowhere phase."

"When did you stop being an Empath?" He asked curiously, "and how?"

The Verum girl's face appeared slightly horrified and shocked. "How... How do you know?"

"I can smell you," Derek answered, and Harper started having flashbacks to when he told her that she didn't smell human.

This was after the whole video shop incident during her sophomore year, when he had been the one to tell her that she was supernatural. Derek had later been the one to tell her that she was an Empath, too. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that Derek had played a bigger factor in her own individual life than she thought. It was like a full-circle now, him coming back and telling her that he could smell she was human.

"Yesterday," she murmured, keeping her voice down so Scott wouldn't hear from where everybody else was in the operation room.

"Who knows?"

"Only Stiles and Deaton," Harper admitted, "I guess Scott hasn't noticed because he's been so wrapped up with this whole war and Anuk-Ite thing... And I gave it up."

"For what?" Derek asked, his face softening. He sensed her hesitance and realised that she wasn't going to speak. "You know, when I gave up being an Alpha for Cora, I felt depressed about it for a while. But when she got better, it was all worth it."

Harper sent him a small smile. "I know it will be worth it," she whispered.

Isaac popped his head out of the doorway. "Um, you two done flirting so we can come up with some sort of plan?"

"They were flirting?" Harper heard Stiles squeak, followed by a smack and Lydia telling him to stop being so stupid.

The werewolf and the former-Empath both entered the operation room, finding the rest of the pack all surrounding the metal table. It felt so strange everybody being here. Her, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Derek, Isaac, Malia... All they needed was Liam, Kira, and Allison and they'd have a full pack. And, while Harper never really considered him an actual member, Jackson was somewhere in Beacon Hills.

As soon as Harper moved to stand beside her boyfriend, he wrapped his strong arm around her frame and pulled her closer to her side. She chuckled and rolled her eyes slightly in amusement, but didn't bother shaking him off of her.

Scott sighed, "it's not just the hunters, it's the Anuk-Ite. It can get into your head and make you see things."

"What does it look like?" Derek questioned.

"It used to look like two ordinary people," Lydia replied, "but somehow they merged. All we know is that it's made of two faces. One human, the other supernatural."

"It's a shapeshifter, just like us," Isaac said, "but it knows what you're afraid of. What you fear most."

Malia scoffed, "and now it can kill you just by looking at you."

Stiles blinked, "how do we go up against this thing blind? And face our deepest fear?"

"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "Why? What do you fear most?"

"Blindness."

"Going... blind?" The Hale werewolf couldn't help but scrunch his nose up at the teenage boy, wondering how on earth that was somebody's greatest fear when so many other awful things existed.

"Yeah, terrified of it. Always have been. This just seems to be a situation of unfortunate overlap."

Despite the situation, Harper couldn't help but smile in amusement slightly at her boyfriend. While she took his greatest fear seriously and wouldn't make him feel small for it, she was just unable to deny the fact that Stiles was adorable.

However, what she didn't know was that the Stilinski boy's worst fear was definitely not going blind. Sure, it was up there, but at the top remained the thought of something bad happening to Harper. He didn't want to admit it to everybody, afraid that Harper would start to worry.

"Harper," Scott's serious tone drew her from her thoughts, "you, Lydia, and Stiles need to find Argent, get to the Armory, rescue Jackson."

"I don't think we have time to wait for him," the strawberry blonde spoke, "I've gotten through those doors once, anyway. I can do it again."

"Can we slow it down just for one second and make sure I'm grasping this?" Stiles interrupted, "so, we're actually talking about doing this? We're gonna do exactly what Gerard wants us to? Is that right?"

Rolling his eyes, Isaac muttered under his breath, "who's the pessimistic one now?"

Of course, Stiles heard. Harper grabbed his wrist before he could raise it to make an inappropriate gesture, her brown eyes sending a small glare Isaac's way. Stiles huffed from beside her but didn't bother to try and curse the werewolf out again, knowing Harper would only grow frustrated with him.

Scott nodded eagerly, "I think that if we stop the Anuk-Ite, we stop it all."

"Stopping this thing can stop Gerard and the hunters?" Derek confirmed.

"Not all of them are hunters."

"Most are just ordinary people," Harper agreed, "they're just acting out 'cos of all this fear in the air... They don't know how to handle it, and then Monroe and Gerard turn up and promise them they can help."

"Monroe's not gonna change," the alpha nodded, "but I think that we can reach the others. Most of them, actually."

Derek folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, well, fear's pretty motivating. Especially when it leads to anger."

"And I think if we can take out the fear in them, we can take out the fight in them too. They're afraid of us, but they don't have to be. They just have to change their minds."

"We have to change their minds," Isaac corrected him.

Malia waved her hands about, trying to change the subject. "Okay, we can face the Anuk-Ite. We can try to fight it blind, we can try to face our fears. But we still need to know how to catch it."

Scott nodded to her, "we will figure that out. We always do."

"Oh, it's nice to see somebody hasn't lost their optimism," Derek spoke.

"Not yet."

"I have," Stiles shrugged, earning a small smack from Harper.

Lydia also glared at him. "We will buy you time, Scott. Who knows? Maybe Jackson will have an answer."

"Maybe Argent will have one," Malia considered.

"You three," Scott looked to Derek, Malia, and Isaac. "You're with me. And we need Peter. Anyone that can help stop this thing or slow it down."

"Where we headed?"

"The high school."

Derek raised his thick brows. "That's where we're gonna find this thing?"

"No... It'll find us."

...

"Harper... Is there anyone around the corner?" Lydia whispered, the three teenagers trying to keep as silent as possible from where they stood with their backs against the wall. "Can you feel anyone?"

The brunette didn't have enough time to confess that she was no longer supernatural, and so she dared to peek around the corner. Stiles grabbed her denim jacket and tried to tug her back as soon as he realised what she was doing, his heart almost coming up his throat when he heard gunshots.

Harper swiftly ducked out of the way, her eyes wide and her heart hammering in her chest as she nodded furiously. "Um, yeah. Yeah, there's someone around the corner."

"I meant use your Empath abilities, idiot!" Lydia scolded her but moved to step out into the hallway.

Harper and Stiles covered their ears as the Banshee stuck her hands out and released a deafening scream, propelling all of the bullets backwards and sending the man flying against the wall. Once everything grew silent, the couple rounded the corner and they took off in the direction of the door.

Stiles kicked it open, revealing somebody who Harper thought she'd never see again.

Jackson Whittemore stood there with blood splattered across his forehead and his clothes. He looked a lot like he did two-years-ago when everybody last saw him, but he was broader and looked a little less like your typical teenage fuckboy.

"Stiles? Harper?" He breathed in shock, clearly startled from all of the gunshots and screaming he'd heard on the other end of the door.

"Jackson?" They spoke in unison.

"Jackson?" Lydia panted from behind them, making the Whittmore boy's blue eyes widen further. "Oh my god, it's you!"

Stiles stood back so the strawberry blonde could run up to him, squeals escaping her lips as she tackled Jackson into a hug. He hugged her back, the two of them laughing happily while Stiles and Harper exchanged looks.

"I can't believe it's you," Lydia screeched for the fourth time.

The Stilinski boy mimicked a gun with his hand and pretended to shoot himself in the mouth, causing Harper to chuckle quietly to herself. She was happy to see Lydia so excited, but it looked like Stiles couldn't care less.

As the pair broke apart, Jackson glanced back to the bodies in the hallway they'd just come from and back to Lydia.

"You did that?"

"Yeah, I did that," she grinned.

"I kicked down the door," Stiles added smugly and Harper laughed to herself, squeezing his hand from where they were linked. "Now that we've all contributed, wanna get the hell out of here?"

"Not without Ethan," Jackson pushed past them all.

"Wow, wow, wow. Ethan as in Ethan Steiner?" Harper's eyes held excitement over how literally everything was coming back full circle. Somehow Ethan and Jackson knew each other. "What's he doing here?"

"He's with me," Jackson paused in his tracks, watching them all for their reactions.

"Ethan?" Lydia repeated. "He's with you?"

"Yes. With me. Ethan."

"And you..." the banshees face softened. "Oh... my god. I thought you'd never figure it out."

Jackson scoffed before he began to chuckle softly. "Can- can we go find him now?" He seemed slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah-" Stiles was cut off by his phone buzzing loudly in the back pocket of his trousers, causing him to dig it out. "Hold in a sec... Hello? Yeah, we're still here. Leaving momentarily though... Okay."

Stiles looked up at them. "We can leave... But there's something we need to get first. Scott thinks it could capture the Anuk-Ite."

Lydia nodded, "you two do that, I'll help Jackson find Ethan."

Before either of them could protest, the former 'it' couple took off in the direction that Jackson insisted he'd last seen Ethan in. Harper stared after them in disbelief, shaking her head.

"Come on," Stiles placed his hand on her shoulder, "we gotta be quick."

Harper followed behind him, trying to keep up with his long legs. They made it into the room that she, Malia, and Scott had almost died in a few days ago, Stiles immediately marching over to the small room where the map had been before they'd stolen it.

Whilst he was trying to budge the door open, Harper's eyes suddenly became captivated on something else. It was a silver mist. Her heart hammered, her eyes unknowingly flashing purple for a second. The small grunts that came from Stiles drowned out in her ears and it was like it was all that she could concentrate on, her mind in a trance.

Without sparing a second glance at her boyfriend, Harper followed the mist.


	29. Chapter 29

By the time Harper Verum had snapped out of the trance she was in, she'd found herself back at the high school. Everything surrounding her was dark under the pitch-black skies, except the doorway which had been lit up by fluorescent light.

She shivered in the cold, her dark brown eyes searching wildly around for any signs of her boyfriend. He seemed to be nowhere, his blue jeep not parked in the carpark a few feet away. Somehow, she'd managed to get here alone- and she wasn't sure why here of all places.

The Verum girl reached her hand out and pushed open the door, memories of her time here coming flooding back. From here she could see the lockers where she'd first introduced herself to Allison Argent, and the classroom doors where she'd spent countless hours messing around with her best friends Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall.

However, she could also see the body of Derek Hale. A small gasp escaped her lips as the door slammed shut behind her, echoing throughout the silent building. She jogged towards the statue of the man, her fingers brushing his arms which were just as cold as actual stone.

"No, no, no," she couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes, "Derek, no."

She didn't realise how much she truly cared about him until now. In fact, Harper was so concentrated on the man in front of her that she didn't realise she could feel the fear emitting from his stone body, or wonder why the hell she'd seen the mist when she should be one hundred percent human again.

His eyes were wide open and Harper couldn't help but wonder what the fearless Derek Hale had seen in the first place. All of a sudden, the edges of her vision started to become blurry and she clung onto the man for dear life, sweat starting to cover her body. This was exactly how Malia Tate had described feeling when she'd seen the Anuk-Ite.

Harper scrunched her eyes shut as tight as she could, her heart in her throat as she dared herself to move away from Derek. She stumbled around in the darkness, her hands feeling for the lockers so she could hopefully navigate herself to one of her friends. She'd spent five years here, so she knew exactly where she was.

"Harper?" The brunette heard the whimper of her boyfriend and she froze in her tracks.

She swallowed, listening as he continued.

"H-Help," Stiles continued, releasing grunts of pain that made her heart hurt. "I think... I think my leg is stuck in something. I think I'm gonna bleed to death, Harps."

Despite her eyes been squeezed shut, a few tears managed to leak through, smearing down her cheeks and falling to the floor below. She knew this was a trick-- she hadn't even heard Stiles come through the main door, and he certainly would have been more frantic and less sad than this.

This was the Anuk-Ite.

"Harper," sobs echoed from the hazel-eyed boy from where he sat on the cold floor, clutching his leg which was surrounded in a pool of blood. "Why aren't you helping me? Harper, pl- please. Why won't you even look at me? I'm dying."

Her hands shook and she could feel her chest practically heaving, but she continued on. She needed to get far away from the Anuk-Ite before it said something that made her snap. If Derek could fall prey to this thing, then she knew she could too.

"You're not real," she muttered under her breath, more to herself than the creature. "Leave me alone. You can't hurt me."

"Harper!" She heard Malia's voice right beside her and she jumped, but still managed to keep her eyes shut. "I've been looking everywhere for you... Open your eyes so I can take you to Scott."

The English girl almost fell for it that time, her hand moving to push the Anuk-Ite away from her. A hand much like Malia's grasped her wrist, stopping her from touching it. This thing even smelt like her.

"Get away from me," Harper ripped her hand back and started to run, doing her best not to trip over with her eyes closed.

One hand remained stretched out, brushing against the walls and lockers to her left. Eventually, she found herself in what she assumed was the library, the aroma of paper and dust filling her nostrils. She heard the doors slam behind her, making her jump.

"H-Hello?" Scott's voice called.

"Not again," Harper cried out, not sure of how much longer she could go on like this.

How long would she have to last with this thing mocking her before she snapped and finally opened her eyes? She could feel herself weakening and the Anuk-Ite's power to make her scared working like a bitch.

"Is that really you, Harper?" Scott asked from somewhere in the library, and from the direction, she assumed that he was amongst the isles of books.

"I don't know, are you really Scott?" Harper sassed back, remaining in her spot by the doorway.

"Yeah, are you really Harper?"

"We're not really getting anywhere with this, are we?" The brunette gulped, her hand brushing against a bookshelf further away. She moved over to it, gliding slowly.

"Say something that will prove you're the real Harper."

"Like what?" Harper scoffed, moving closer and closer to the voice that she was almost sure belonged to the real Scott.

"Um... What's my favourite song?"

"Really, Scott?" Harper deadpanned, "that's the question you go with? Okay, I know you're the real Scott because nobody else would come up with a dumbass question like that."

She could eventually feel his body heat in front of her and she came to an abrupt halt, feeling tense. Despite being almost sure that was the real Scott, she still didn't want to open her eyes in case. She didn't want to die like this.

"Say something only you and I would know," the werewolf insisted, gulping from how close she was when he still wasn't sure if she was the Anuk-Ite or not.

"Okay..." Harper thought hard, "one time, back in our freshman year... we- we were having a sleepover with Stiles, but I got there early. I opened your bedroom door without knocking and I walked in on you watching-"

"Okay, okay," his hand quickly pressed over her mouth, silencing her. "Okay, I believe you. I believe you."

Harper exhaled shakily, "should we open our eyes?"

The boy in front of her hesitated. Before he could reply, they both heard the sounds of footsteps slowly approaching them. The two teenagers went silent, sheets of sweat clinging to their skin as they tried to quite their heavy breathing.

"Hiding in the library, Scott?" The familiar voice of Stiles filled their ears, "hiding from me, little dove?"

"Bloody hell," Harper whispered under her breath, swallowing thickly.

It wasn't Stiles- it was Void Stiles, a whole other story. She knew that he was one of her biggest fears, but she wasn't aware that he was one of Scott's too. They listened as he drummed his fingers across the books stacked neatly in the shelves.

"Open your eyes, Scott," Void Stiles dared him, "you think you can fight me, but you can't  
"Open your eyes, Scott," Void Stiles dared him, "you think you can fight me, but you can't. Your friends are gone. They saw my face and it drove them insane. They're gone because of you. You failed them."

Harper's hand fidgeted until it found Scott's which was squirming. She could hear his body shifting around, clearly terrified of whatever was slowly but surely approaching them from behind.

"Don't listen to it," the brunette whispered quietly.

Suddenly, his voice was deep and distorted. "You failed everyone."

It was the Nogitsune.

"Especially her," it breathed, Scott's arm moving out in front of Harper who was trying desperately not to cry.

A loud bang sounded from nearby where the Nogitsune had shoved over tables and chairs, allowing them to clatter messily to the ground. He stalked closer, now inches away from their faces.

"Especially... Allison."

Scott lurched forward with a loud growl, swiping his claws out only to meet thin air. Harper gasped and sank back into the shelves, wishing she could help him somehow.

"Open your eyes," Harper heard Derek swipe at Scott's chest, but the alpha dodged it.

"Open your eyes," this time it was Isaac Lahey and Scott moved out the way just in time but released a frustrated scream.

Lydia Martin's earsplitting scream sounded throughout the room and Harper cried, dropping down to her knees and holding her hands over her ears. Her brain was begging for her to open her eyes and peek at her surroundings, but she willed herself not to. She had to be stronger than that for the sake of everybody she loved.

"Does it hurt?" Harper felt familiar hands touch hers, gently peeling them away from her ears. It was Void Stiles again. "Open your eyes and I can help you."

"Get away from her!" Scott roared, his voice distorted and it was evident that the fangs in his mouth were present.

"Open your eyes then, Scott," Void persuaded smoothly, his hand reaching to grasp Harper's arm and he tightened his grip until she whimpered in pain. "Then maybe you can save at least one of your friends."

Harper struck her foot out and managed to kick him in the chest, trying not to feel bad at how Stiles-like the grunt sounded. She listened as he stumbled back but began to chuckle darkly, moving away from the girl, morphing back into the Nogitsune.

"Your fear is different, Scott," it said, "there's power underneath. Your power."

It stalked behind one of the tables and Scott remained silent, focusing on where it was.

"Your fear brings me freedom! I won't be trapped again. I won't be caught and caged ever again. Not ever!" It reached out and grabbed Scott by the neck, sending him hurtling backwards.

Harper staggered to her feet as she listened to Scott start to choke, her heartbeat out of control. She felt around the bookshelves, desperate for anything that could help her when she heard a voice she never thought she'd hear again.

"That's where you're wrong."

An arrow whizzed through the air and hurtled in the direction of the Nogitsune and Scott, landing in the mummified one's back. Scott's choking still filled the library, but it had stuttered for a moment, his brain obviously confused about whether or not he had just heard correctly.

"Allison!" Harper cried happily, moving outside the bookshelves and feeling as the teenage girl came bounding over. "Ally, is that really you?"

"Yeah!" Allison's voice sounded as clear as daylight in Harper's head and it was trippy. "I'd love to do the whole reunion thing right now, but Scott's kinda dying so now would be the right time for you to tell me how to defeat the Nogitsune."

Harper's heart ached. Allison had no idea that this wasn't the real Nogitsune, and that they had already defeated that thing over two years ago. She'd missed out so much and she'd never even had the chance to find out if the battle she'd died in was a battle that her friends had ended up winning.

"Allison, shut your eyes, now," Harper warned the huntress who made a noise of confusion. "I don't know how to explain this all to you right now, but that thing will kill you if you even look at it. So don't, okay?"

"But Scott-"

"Allison, please. I can't... we can't lose you again."

There was a moment of silence. "Okay, my eyes are shut. What now?"

Harper heard a body slam and Scott gasping for air, and she reached forward and grabbed Allison's arm. The feeling of their skin touching was insane to her, her mind whirling at a thousand thoughts per second as she dragged the huntress behind some bookshelves.

"That thing- it's called the Anuk-Ite. It can die just from looking at it, and it- it takes on the shape of your greatest fear," Harper rushed to explain, "so whatever you do, you gotta keep your eyes shut."

Harper and Allison suddenly heard the swipe of claws, their hearts pounding out of their chests as Scott began to scream. Allison jolted from beside the other teenage girl, but Harper grabbed her and forced her to stay in her place, no matter how much she wanted to help too.

"What's he doing?" Allison cried.

"I don't know," Harper whimpered.

The screaming coming from Scott seemed continuous, and underneath his wails Harper could just about make out a faint squelching sound. The backs of her eyelids started to ache, and it was like everything had hit her all at once.

"Scott ripped his own eyes out."

Scott's screams went silent and Allison smacked her hand over her mouth, clenching her eyes shut as tight as possible. Harper willed herself to be quiet, knowing that making the smallest of noises would break Scott's concentration. With no sight, he had to rely on sound to help him fight the Anuk-Ite.

She heard the familiar buzz of the Oni and the swipe of a sword and Allison shuddered from beside her, her hand moving to grasp Harper's. The sound of a dread doctor swinging its arm filled Harper's ears, followed swiftly by Scott's grunt as he kicked it in the chest, sending it tumbling back.

Scott released a roar so loud that it caused the library to rattle. "You can't beat me. I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore. You wanted enough power so that you could never be trapped again. You wanted the power of a shapeshifter like me. But that comes with all of the rules of being a shapeshifter!"

Allison's grip on Harper's hand tightened.

"We have weaknesses, and we have lines that we can't cross."

"Mountain ash," Harper realised.

The doors of the library swung open and Harper heard glass smash across the floor, followed by the hissing of the Anuk-Ite. Stiles panted as he watched the brown dust start to swirl around the creature, turning it to stone- just like it had turned their friends to stone.

Harper flickered her eyes open, releasing a relieved sob when she saw that it had worked.

They had won.

She glanced beside her to see Allison's eyes slowly opening, the two girls staring at each other for a moment before grabbing each other in one of the tightest hugs that Harper had ever taken part in. Her dainty hands scrambled to grip the back of Allison's black sweater and Allison's hands moved to cup the back of Harper's head, holding her as close as possible.

"You saved my life, Harper," Allison sniffled.

"Yeah, well you saved mine two years ago," Harper whispered back, and the two girls only squeezed tighter.

Stiles suddenly came bounding around the bookshelf, his eyes widening at the sight. "Holy... Allison?"

"Stiles," the girl beamed, standing up and giving him a short hug. "Where's Scott?"

The three teenagers glanced over their shoulders, their eyes wide when they saw how the alpha was leaning against the stairs of the library, panting heavily. It reminded Harper of the time she had watched Liam rip him to shreds in that very spot, where his heart had stopped beating for twenty minutes and she thought it was all over.

"Scott!" Allison cried, running over to her first love.

"Allison?" He sounded panicked, his heart racing as he felt her hands touch his. "Allison, is that really you?"

"It is- it's me," she choked on a happy sob, one of her spare hands reaching up to his face. "I'm back."

Harper stared at where Scott's eyes should have been. The selfless idiot that she adored with her whole heart had actually done it- he'd ripped his eyes out to defeat the Anuk-Ite, but most importantly save his friends. Black holes remained where warm, brown eyes should have been, blood caking down his cheeks like tears.

"I wish- I wish I could see you," Scott managed a weak smile.

The library doors opened and four pairs of footsteps came rushing in. Harper glanced over her shoulder from where she was knelt by Scott, seeing Lydia, Malia, Isaac, and Derek come rushing in.

"Scott?" Malia panicked while Lydia and Isaac cried, "Allison!?"

Derek glanced between Harper and Allison knowingly, realising that this is what she must have sacrificed her Empath abilities for. He didn't know how the hell she had done it, or even that it was possible, but she'd done it. Allison Argent was alive and breathing again.

Lydia looked like she was going to pass out, and Isaac was in complete and utter shock.

"That's Allison?" Malia whispered to her boyfriend who nodded uneasily.

"He's not healing," Allison explained frantically to her friends.

"Scott, you have to heal," Derek warned him, "if your eyes stay like this much longer, the damage is gonna be permanent."

Everything went silent as everybody stared at Scott, Allison's hand shifting to his shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze.

"Come on, Scott," Stiles pleaded from beside Harper, "concentrate."

"I'm trying," the werewolf panted, "it's not working. I can't focus."

Allison began to cry, her hands cupping his cheeks. "Come on, Scott. You gotta concentrate. Please."

Stiles' hand reached down to link with Harper's, the pair exchanging sorrowful glances. It was so strange seeing the former couple back beside each other after two years, but they were more concentrated on their best friend who was about to lose his eyes.

"Allison..." Lydia breathed, "kiss him."

The tall brunette hesitated, her brown eyes teary as she focused on the boy in front of her. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, feeling immediately as he kissed back. His hands slowly and shakily moved up to hold hers.

"Oh my god," Harper breathed, running her hands under her eyes from where she was starting to cry.

Stiles smiled softly at his girlfriend, pulling her closer to his side as they watched Allison and Scott pull away from each other. Suddenly, beams of red light started to form inside Scott's sockets. Flickers of brown shone past them and crimson, glazed eyes formed, fading away to reveal his normal brown ones which were full of tears.

Everybody released sighs of relief as Scott and Allison both giggled at each other, reconnecting their lips. The first thing that Scott had seen was Allison Argent, and he didn't want it any other way.

...

Everything worked out the way it should of. That night, every hunter fled Beacon Hills knowing that if they were to ever return, it would be a losing battle. The people of the town came to realise that the supernatural weren't as bad as their wildest fears had made them out to be, and so they lived in harmony with each other.

For once in an extremely long time, everything was going well for the pack. Harper had gained her Empath abilities back, Allison was alive again, Derek was back in Beacon Hills, Malia had finally booked that trip to Paris with Isaac for in a months time...

For some reason, Harper had never thought it would work out like this. After the night that Allison and Aiden had died, she just assumed that there was no way Harper would finish high school with everybody else by her side. But she had. They were all here, right in her living room.

Music played softly through one of the speakers from where Harper sat on the couch next to Stiles, her head on his chest as she laughed at Lydia and Malia who were trying to play Just Dance. Isaac was playfully cheering on his girlfriend who was losing dramatically, leaving an annoyed expression on the werecoyote's face.

"This is just bullshit!" Malia exclaimed once it had been revealed that she'd lost to the strawberry blonde yet again. "This game is rigged."

She pouted as she dropped herself down onto the couch, folding her arms across her chest. Isaac cooed her, tickling under her chin and giggling as if she was only three-years-old.

"Awh, is Mal upset that she's not good at the dancing game?" He teased her, earning a rough smack from his girlfriend.

Harper chuckled quietly at them, a sleepy yawn escaping her lips as the door to the kitchen suddenly burst open and Scott and Allison entered with trays of food in their hands. The brunette's eyes lit up and she immediately felt more awake, sitting up from where she had been slouched against Stiles' chest.

He laughed at her, "of course you wake up for the food."

She reached forward and grabbed a sausage roll from the coffee table, shoving it in her mouth and shooting him a glare.

"Are you calling me fat, Stilinski?"

"Wha- what? No!" He squeaked, "you're-"

"It's okay," she laughed, softly elbowing his side and passing him a sausage roll for himself. "I know you weren't calling me fat, idiot."

Stiles relaxed and took the food from her, shooting a small glare at Liam who was staring at them from the other side of the couch with raised brows.

"Isn't it past your bedtime or something?"

"I'm a senior now!" The younger werewolf protested, and Harper snickered at him.

She glanced around the warm room and couldn't help but feel so whole. Scott and Allison were cuddled up on the couch nearby, Derek conversing with Isaac and Malia a few feet away. Food and drink were placed out everywhere, and Lydia was standing over by the iPod going through all of the music that continued to play softly in the background.

Harper thought about every single person in the room.

There was Liam Dunbar; a year younger than her, but still one of the best people she knew. Even if he'd started off as some angry ball of resentment towards the pack, he'd managed to find a family with these people, and Harper knew it. From taking her pain at the sheriff's station to letting her help him at the hospital when he was having a panic attack, Liam would always hold a place in her heart.

Next came Derek Hale. She vividly remembered the day she stumbled upon him in the woods and how creepy she thought he was. Harper assumed there wasn't much to him; he was just this brooding, sour person that cared about nobody but himself. Over the past few years, she'd come to realise that Derek Hale was nothing of that sort- in fact, she was more like him than she thought. If anything, Derek cared too much; he'd saved her, Scott, and Stiles' asses more times than she could possibly count and she knew he'd do it again in a heartbeat if he had to.

Somebody that Harper assumed she'd never become close with was Isaac Lahey, yet somehow, he'd ended up becoming her brother. The six-foot-something werewolf hid behind sly smirks and grey scarves, but he was one of the sweetest people Harper had ever met. She couldn't count the number of times she'd stayed up talking with him in the kitchen until midnight, or how many times he'd come to her for relationship advice with Malia. He was easily one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

Malia Tate. She'd come such a long way from the first time Harper had met her in the woods when she was still just a coyote. Harper remembered being so relieved when she found out she was her roommate in Eichen House, she'd felt a connection with Malia from the very start but she had no idea it would blossom to what it has. Harper was Malia's first real friend, and she'd taught the werecoyote how to be the best version of herself. They had a bond so unique that no ordinary person could ever find with anyone, and Harper swore her life would be so much duller without the girl.

Harper introduced herself to Allison Argent on the first day of sophomore year with the intent of making a new school friend; not a sister that would risk everything for her. Even if Allison had missed such a huge chunk of Harper's life when she'd died, she'd still been there since the very beginning. From sleepovers to supernatural crime-fighting, Harper and Allison had done almost everything together. Their lives were like movies, one day they'd be on a double date with Scott and Stiles, and the next they'd be sneaking creatures that were supposed to be mythical into the back of police vans.

Of course, Lydia Martin would always be her first-ever female friend. She was intense and the smartest person that Harper knew, and the strawberry blonde would do anything for Harper. They dragged each other up from the lowest of lows, they got ready for every formal together, and they worked out every supernatural drama side by side. Lydia was the kind of best friend that everybody wanted to have, but not many people were lucky to find. Harper valued Lydia with every ounce of her being and without her, she had no idea where she'd be right now.

However, Scott McCall, or Scotty as she often called him, would always be her bestest friend in the whole world- even if 'bestest' wasn't a real word. Even before the supernatural mess, he'd always been there for her. The number of times he'd saved her, how he gave up at nothing to make sure she was okay. When Harper discovered that she had a brother in Eichen House, she was ecstatic to find out that she had a sibling. But the more she thought about it, the more she realised that Scott had always been her brother, never Harry. He had and he always will be.

And then there was the idiot sat next to her. Mieczysław Stilinski was the only boy Harper had ever loved or planned on loving. He was quite honestly her everything. Her first kiss, her first dance, her first everything. No matter how many times she tried to put words to paper, they never managed to exactly capture how she felt about the hazel-eyed-boy who'd stolen her heart one cold day in sophomore year and never returned it since. Her heart skipped a beat just thinking about how damn lucky she was with him.

Harper was brought away from her thoughts when a pair of hands grabbed her arms. She was pulled from the comfort of the couch, her eyes wide as she was handed a Switch remote and forced to stand next to Lydia in the middle of the living room.

"As long as I get to pick the song," Lydia huffed and rolled her eyes at Allison who had forced her over.

It took the strawberry blonde far too long to pick 'California Gurls' by Katy Perry, and much to her shock horror, she'd lost. Stiles cheered for his girlfriend a bit too loudly, issuing a deathly stare from Lydia who slammed her remote into Allison's arms.

"Whatever, Malia's right. It's probably rigged," Lydia huffed, ignoring Harper who was doing a small victory dance from behind her.

"Awh, Lydia," Harper laughed, "don't be so salty. Who's next?"

Harper led every single dance with extreme skill and confidence. She beat Allison, Isaac, Liam, and even Derek who had been forced to get up- not that he'd tried. The Hale man had just moved the hand with the controller, refusing to move any other limb on his own body.

"What the hell, dude?" Scott breathed once he'd lost to the brunette, shooting her an incredulous look. "Have you been practising or something?"

"Maybe I'm just that good," Harper flicked her hair over her shoulder dramatically at him before she started to flex her non-existent muscles. "Who's next? Who dares challenge The Just Dance Queen?"

Her eyes squinted as they landed on her last opponent, a smirk on her face when he saw her smiling in amusement at her.

"Stiles Stilinski," she spoke slowly, "I believe I have yet to challenge thee."

"Game on, Verum," Stiles stood from his spot on the couch, their friends all 'ooing' from around them. "You may have been able to beat our friends, but I can't promise you'll beat me."

Harper scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and raising her eyebrows. "Sure. I'll let you pick the song... since I think you might need the advantage."

Scott grinned in amusement at the couple's trash talk, excitement practically eating him alive since he knew what was coming next. He'd managed to keep it quiet for the past few days, and he thought he might burst if he had to wait any longer without telling a single soul.

Stiles ended up picking (I've Had) The Time Of My Life since he was just that cheesy. They danced like their lives depended on it, neck to neck in points as they continuously tried to sabotage each other, 'accidentally' always knocking into one another.

"You cheat!" Harper yelled at him, shoving him back just as hard and causing him to stumble a little.

She blushed as the music slowed down and they had to practically dance on each other in front of all of their friends, her heart hammering in her chest. Harper had to admit that this was adorable, even if it was just for a stupid Nintendo game. When the music picked back up again she was straight back to trying to get him to trip over his long legs.

"Do the jump at the end!" Lydia yelled and Harper laughed, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

"Would Stiles even be able to lift her?" Derek raised his brows, the amused smile not leaving his face.

"Do it!" Isaac belted.

Harper and Stiles took a few steps back from each other, copying the actions of the people on the screen, and then Harper did her little run-up. She sucked her breath in as she planted her hands on Stiles's shoulders and his large hands quickly grabbed her waist. They wobbled a bit as he lifted her as swiftly as possible into the air, all of their friends applauding as if they'd never seen anything like it.

The small brunette squealed with laughter. "Okay, okay, put me down before you drop me!"

Stiles chuckled as he lowered her, leaving her a few inches above the ground before he began to spin her. She grinned down at him, their eyes meeting as slowly dropped her back down onto her own feet. The room began to grow quiet, causing Harper's smile to fade off her face in confusion. 

Then, Stiles started to kneel.

The gasp that passed Harper's lips was so loud that her throat almost felt like it had been ripped in half. She was well aware of the gasps that echoed around her, followed by excited whispers and awes. Tears immediately welled in Harper's eyes and her hand immediately moved to her frantically beating heart, her bottom lip wobbling. Stiles reached into the back pocket of his khaki trousers, producing a small, black box.

"I know I asked you once before, but I didn't do it properly- and I wanna do everything right for you, Harps," Stiles spoke, his voice slightly shaky with emotion. "This isn't exactly a proposal on the Eiffel Tower or anything, but it's here— at home with everybody we love, so hopefully that makes up for it. I kind of planned on doing this when we came back from college over Christmas break, but since we're seeing each other a little earlier than planned, I don't think I can wait any longer without asking you a question.

"Since the moment I laid eyes on you at the front of the classroom when we were only nine, I knew you were special, I just didn't realise how special you'd end up being to me."

"Stiles," Harper sniffled, her voice cracking.

"There's so much I wanted to cram into his speech, 'cause I know you like words, but I didn't want it to sound so planned and fake, because I also know you like authenticity even more. Harper Jean Verum, I have loved you since before I even knew what love was. I adore you with every single piece of me I have, and I know I always will because you're my soulmate.

"I- I remember the first thing time we met. Jackson had made some dumb comment about your accent and you were forced to sit next to Scott and me- which I am so thankful for every single day by the way because otherwise, you might have been just another face in the crowd, not that you aren't special enough to stand out because you always stand out to me but- but, anyway, that's not the point- the point is... the first thing I ever said to you was that I liked your voice."

Harper wiped under her eyes and nodded with a grin, "you said- you said it reminded you of Hermoine," she chuckled softly at the memory.

Scott beamed proudly too, his arm which was around Allison's shoulder tightening as he watched his two best friends. His heart was beating so loudly and he was just so happy for them. 

"Yeah," Stiles laughed tearily with her, "and I said that I was Ron because I was funny, and Scott was Harry because he was a nerd."

Everybody chuckled with them, Allison and Lydia both finding themselves sniffling too.

"And over time, I have grown to not just like your voice but fall in love with it. Even when you're yelling at me because I've done something stupid, or when you're laughing so hard you can barely get your words out, or how croaky it is when you're sick, or the way it sounds when you're crying... or how you always use slang that I'll never understand and you say words weird. I love it, just like I love every single little part of you," Stiles promised her sincerely.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe that Ron and Hermione end up together in the end," Stiles breathed, searching her eyes for any hesitation- but he found none. "And I'm not saying that I called it from the beginning... But I kind of did."

Harper giggled at him and rolled her eyes in amusement. "'Cause you're always right," she murmured.

Stiles shook his head and smiled, practically melting at the girl in front of him. "I know we're so young and we have our entire lives ahead of us, but I can't imagine any future of mine without you right beside me. So, Harper Verum, what I'm trying to ask you is... will you make me the happiest man in the entire world and marry me?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes," Harper jumped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and pulling him as tight as possible. "A trillion fucking times yes."

The pack cheered from around them as the couple pulled each other into a kiss, their lips fitting together like puzzle pieces. When Stiles pulled back, he opened the box, revealing a beautiful diamond engagement ring that looked fit for a princess. Both their hearts were pounding as he slid it onto her ring finger, and she took a few seconds to admire it before she was back in his arms.

Another pair of arms were suddenly around them and the pair laughed, looking up at Scott who was on the verge of tears, a happy grin on his tan face. He shook them both in his tight grip, making them groan and wheeze.

"My best friends are getting married!" Scott yelled, pressing hard kisses to the sides of both of their heads and causing them to laugh. "I love you both so much."

"We love you too, buddy," Stiles promised him as he wrapped his arm back around Harper's shoulders, pulling her next to him.

He leaned down and pecked her lips one more time before the rest of their friends started to congratulate them.

Harper Verum swore as she stood there with her pack that nothing could be better than this.


End file.
